Smitten
Feb 24, 2017 · 1 min read
Recant the loveless
dance of sightless beings.
Honed of her fine-tuning;
fleshworn and smitten by
your dark rendering of her
Immortal.
She wears your tears; perched
with the wings of piracy beaked
to the jawline of your sorrow
and unspeakable mystery.
Coaxed to the minims of your
threnody in shades of daybreak;
broken glass of the Waterdowne
mixed of salt and whisky:
Your flight inward
beckons the sinner in Her
to dance alone
in the brilliantly sharp
of that eye.
April 6th, 2011
