Those Eyes Are Closed

Those eyes are closed
And cannot see
How tossed in sleep
I cling to thee;

In seething storm
Or silent pain
I hold your shape,
Your voice,
Your name;

And when I rise
I rise in thee,
And when I fall
I fall to thee;

And when I die,
My end must be
In thee, my hell,
In thee.

A.K. Sykora lives in Hanover, Germany, with a pediatrician, three cats and three unsold novels. Over 50 of her stories and poems have appeared in print or on the web. Since last submitting, she has (finally) made some paid sales: of a poem to Tales of the Talisman (June 2008), and of stories to Tales from the Clinic (Workers Write! April 2008), Warrior Wisewoman (Norilana Books, 2008), and Cat Tales: Fantastic Feline Fiction (no pub. dates provided). She has also placed poems with Star*Line (July 2008), the Iconoclast (#98), KRAX Magazine (2008), and the Storyteller (Oct.-Nov.-Dec. 2007), as well as on the websites of Green Rock (Dec. 2007) and Midnight Times (Spring 2008).

Find more by A.K. Sykora in the Author Index.

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