dark poetry

i loathed you
the shadows of the ships
bring me soft song
therefore i may not
as a white candle
world that changes under my hand
beautiful
quietly, with reverance, in awe
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
they may talk of love in a cottage
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
there is no flock, however watched and tended