Recant the loveless

dance of sightless beings.

Honed of her fine-tuning;

fleshworn and smitten by

your dark rendering of her


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

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