Sweven

She, of spectral grace and ethereal face, fills the shadows of my steps. A surge of sweet words, melodious inklings haunt the hollows of my heart. Turn to embrace her, to finally face her, am struck speechless by the light of her thin halo. Be still shuddering soul. Let her shimmer come and go.

Nodded off earlier this evening.

Heartless
Adrift in dark upon the fringe of some swift dream, she may be dead. Disembodied fingertips claw deep into her naked chest, hold open the hollow part in which should rest a precious heart. From her chasm, shoots take shape, leaves unfurl and flowers shake. Fingers uproot all the striving life living in place of her nowhere heart. Tatters drift my way. Catch them. Take them. Run away. Before I can replant her soul the softest of sounds shakes. Awake.