my favoured time of day.
The moon was already glowing.
I was up in my onyx tower,
feeding an injured white owl
that had found its way to me.
As I brushed the ointment
on the underside of its wing,
I heard a voice behind me.
‘That one will live long.’
I turned to see Thanatos
at the top of the stairwell.
He wore his usual cloak,
his scythe by his side
and had the same tired, kind eyes,
but there was something
different about him.
I must have been staring
too long because he asked,
‘Have I got bone dust on my face?’
I laughed at his question
and shook my head,
‘No. Your face is perfect.’
There was a pause as we
both realized what I had said.
‘What I mean is…’ I fumbled
for words to cover
my stumble, ‘I meant…’
Thanatos’ eyes shone
with mirth as he responded.
‘I know what you meant.’
