Mischief

Was a cold, tiny hand in mine
It had found its warmth
Was a snake coiled around me
On that dead and gorgeous night.

A small wind blew
And I sensed a change in me
Scary was that forgotten feeling
But if forgotten
How could it be true?

Only time would say
If that beckoning was meant
Or was just a grain of time...
Never to be touched again
Or to be cherished forever
In a chasm deep inside
In the chasm reopened...