Shreds: “Eve”

‘Twas an eve like many more,
I swore.
The sink still full, forlorn
Till morn.
Ere sinking into fleece,
Then released.
Since I’ve been alone, ‘tis the tale
Of pale
Routine: you with someone,
Undone.
Better, with fewer words:
It hurts.
More than a dark, brooding gaze,
I’m amazed.
Your flavor. Pain.
Be then, damned night,
Alight.
Plague-bearer ‘mongst streets and thoughts;
It rots.
If past,
You seemed a herald,
Imperiled.
Now dread,
You seem a thousand stern headsmen.
Be it. Amen.