I saw your raven’s claw hit the mark too squarely.
The clip of the talon’s clasp.
Snatching telephone cable as I watch three lightning storms
consume the sound.
I do not buy nonchalance
anymore than I am willing to eat soft words when
my eyes go hard.
Uncanny does not always equal canny.
Ariadne now knows how to lucid dream.
A hand poised, around a throat from which
“take my breath away” is whispered with
an accompanying half grin.