Shade of the Wolf

You are the colour of night to me and the hue of my dawn. My waking moments awash with a blurred-edge grey, the fur of some beast, all teeth to devour and savour sweet wine from my veins. A languid stretch of Eau de Nil to coax me through these endless mornings, thinner, waxen thoughts that melt away and slip beneath the surface of the pale water, paler day. Some immaculate hour, fulfilled with sap and sunlight, ripens on the vine and then splits, spilling jewels of all shades to the golden baked afternoon. The wolf returns, ashen, full of calmness. Starkly cloudless, the mad sky screams darkness back into passing dreams that will come here tonight. My mind is torn in two by you, colour of night, hue of my dawn.