Aurora
Dawn
breaks free from the darkness.
She’s been kept,
enslaved,
Handcuffed,
like that lady, 27 years in the basement
kept tied to a pole;
Aurora like a whore,
nailed to the night,
and shivering.
But
we see her now,
there, there moving,
like someone they said was dead
or was dying,
pulling off pukey garments,
the black shroud
with which she was muffled,
ripping away the pieces,
until we can see her face, her figure,
and all of a sudden
we do a double-take;
god! She’s lovely.
She is sunlight.