Midnight's Stroke

Oh Succubus, hush
in your drag and wicked eye
fallen angel fallen to despair
the smell of death
false magician

oh pallid priest of midnight's
stroke, on wing
that vapid breath
misplacing the hour
when Christ slept

haste not from Heaven's
gated manifold
wisdom says make house calls
not, tonight
focus the epicenter of this
hunger elsewhere

oh entombed stranger
dismal figure and barren
marrow, misborn intent

tonight, these hands fold to
pray no more
tonight I don holy robe and
smitten hammer
under candle's cradled eye
align new spring studs
in the cold coffins.

TA