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.