Lilith

Lilith is the violinist, the violin, the note
stretching like a grant jeté across a stage.
She’s the summer straw hat ray of sun
breaking through sad face winter clouds.
She’s the last grateful smiling hallelujah
in the mournful choir humming a cappella.
Lilith is the steel blue motionless whispers,
of that arresting gaze demanding silence.
Lilith is the hushed interlude drawing you
to the heart of an interstellar black hole.
She’s the winged child serpent goddess
contained in an eruption of angelic power.
Lilith is the innocence of desire calling
in passion to be beheld but never owned.

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