Angel enemy and friend: my cage, my armor... ribs flare. a belly dance; grim fireside flirt? flicker: shadow’s arm over my side, five other fingers laced in mine, pressed to breath slime-seasoned with old agony. again I beg – fern-curled against his sleeping frame... dense whispers creak, moan’s end, sink in the black.           next, quick:         a gift! here, at          your back.                        still. still – these thin bones strung together like my own; heart’s guard, swift, sun-silent – tightly gripped. Now I’ll not just cling. I’ll look at you.                    Shelley Costa                          posted April ’04