April 8 - Gothic Mood 1

Slender beams of sunlight enter
this darkened church as I kneel,
always somber, always lost,
frozen here,
waiting.

Haloed forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
of my naked outstretched arms.

A reflection on a lover's face.

I raise my head, now submitting to
this aloof light.