Woman of the pale
Amber lights drinking my vision
Apricot blossoms running my veins
Erotic strands tracing my flesh
Amidst my torrid mind the seed is planted
A molding in the shade
Dripping red, a flavor forgotten
Tendrils of smoke
A contusion of my desire
Names on the wind calling, yearning
A dilution of my sanity
Reaching to the angels
My dreams wash ashore
A reminder of who I am
A broken man in lands forgotten
Soiled and isolated in dry riverbeds
Sterile and strewn
My hot rancid words laying all to bare
Echoing, my need
Delving, my sanctum
Walking, my dreams sharp as the blade
A silken visage
The retina of the eye the woman of the pale
Alive and dancing to the sickened beat of my bleeding bosom