Grave
A look of death
It's not obvious,
The absence of living luminescence
That fills her bones with dread
Her face, burnished bronze still
The incarnation of the water-lily huntress Diana
Is black inside, layers of skin cells beneath the surface
Of deceptively golden energy
But sometimes . . .
A look of peace
It surrounds her like the pillow down of heaven's thrones
When death is by her side
Fluttering mirthlessly
Like butterflies in winter
And in that moment
Inner ash turns to honeyed bliss
As she touches lips to frozen fire
Shameless Plug Here: Just wanted to add to any readers of this little ditty, please check out my two long in-progress fics, "Fortunate Son" and "Baby You Don't Even Know", both can be found if you search for my penname, rubygoddess.