The Dragon and the Unicorn Pt VIII

The Coming of the Lover

Only when the air is most still,
And the forest most silent
Will you see him.
Unmoving, unbreathing, you will sit,
Watching the ripples in some moon-dark pool,
Looking in upon yourself,
Through all your half-forgotten closets,
Oblivious to the sound of rustling leaves,
As the branches part to admit him.
Without seeing, you sense his presence
Behind you, rubbing your neck
With his bearded chin.
Slowly, so as not to startle,
Yourself as much as him,
You turn and look into deep wells of eye,
Recording all the world in each instant.
The horn glides through you.
You are his:
Branded by his mark forever,
As he was branded long ago.
You follow, you have no choice,
For he has taken your life.
As you go, you leave dragon scales
Behind