love poem

to clothe the fiery thought
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
see i give myself to you
no prey am i of poor thoughts
so lost
city that is not a city
for then without
gone before us
one with you
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
daughter, thou art come to die
noises that strive to tear
and how could you dream of meeting