wytchcroft

 

and later on we walk the wild queen home
the petals of her heart
with the wires exposed
she was born of water
we were stepping stones

all the breath scented air
all our candle light
dancing in between
the bishop and his bones

through the valley and its shadows
through the forest and its zones
pieces of machinery
singing as we go

nights under heaven
where the full moon shines
the wild queen leaves footprints  
footprints the colour of wine.