|picture source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/93027548526653594/|
You’ve shown me to fly,
I followed without reservation,
entered with you into the grounds
retained for rapture and devastation.
Unable, unwilling, to leave this park,
you fed me with your possession.
It’s cold now we don’t fly,
the howling wind my sorrowed call,
ice slices through where
your presence’s been withdrawn,
my hunger, this need, unsated, remains,
your claim on me, forgone.