In The Dark

He met me in the creeping dark

The bow of his lips a graceful arc

I found the flower in his kiss

I found an awful kind of bliss

He traced the outline of my cheek

An unspoken word that made me weak

But then he drew from my touch

Kicking out my sturdy crutch

And then so sudden his knife did plunge

Downwards before my sideways lunge

He cut so deep that the wound bled glass

The cold crystal drops coming to pass

Over my ribs and over his chest

My hand came down as if to rest

Lightly trembling to hold his face

His sweat curling round like transparent lace

But never did I reach his silken skin

Instead I felt the dagger deep within

Twisting until it finds its mark

Then he leaves me, alone, in the creeping dark.