this sudden gold joy
you’ve brought me
with your fortunate fall
into my corner
I can’t deserve, fanged,
fat with poison as I am,
damned with my gift for
putting an end to fine things.

where have you come from,
some bright pastoral place
of open space where I’m not known?
did no parent warn you
that with my lips,
my reckless hands
and hips I could shatter
your fine symmetry?

before I teach you
to hate the one
your small struggles
(insistent as love poems)
summoned from sleep
I’d warn you far away;
but your sunny limbs
and hair blossom me to hunger.

what I am is what you’ve
never known: the shadow
that scurries beyond
your sleep — I’m night.
even now the fine webs
that hold you fast in air
twitch and hum
with my dark footfall.

no spinner of beauty
you’ve fluttered
too close to see,
not a prince of balance
poised on golden thread,
I’m danger, bright one, 
blundering age, greed and rage:
don’t trust, lover don’t listen.