The Recovery

She was snow light; she shone by his side.
He was coal black.
He was wolf pack.
Her soul was sharp; she slashed at his senses.  
He was icy hearth.
He was fake laugh.
Her shade seeped; she strode within his storm.
He was ages passed.
He was bull glass.
She shares her shape still; sensual saviour.
He is fully grown.
He is saved bones.

This poem I entered into the the Welsh Poetry Competition which attracts poems from global contributors. I was astounded to be awarded a commendation and more so given that the poems that tend to win are usually poetic prose or just simply short prose.