Reservoir

Your eyelids flicker while you sleep
in filtered moonlight, and betray
a reservoir of dark, hid deep,
swept ceaselessly by squalls which play
and whip the waves, until sunrise
when you assume a veil to view
yourself and those around you through
and shroud your secrets from your eyes.

He offered love without entail
while hers was rationed, rare, withdrawn:
they wove cold, angry, constant, warm
and doubting colours in your veil,
distorting what you see and feel,
and storing hurt, too deep to heal.

Published in Poetry Salzburg Review May 2018