hers yours

Through smoke-stream-lined shadows,
shone silver moonbeams,
Threading hearts' gentle thunder, with love's cosmic beads,
And the willows crouched darkly, in fear to be green,
For the shadows so starkly
spared colours from need,

But the sharpening silence bled light from eye-beams,
As her soul stitched your loving from nothing but seems,
Flew the truth-hunter's arrow through the skin of the dream,
Your heart in her stealing, once whispers, twice screams.