Two fingers, gently laid
On a storm, amorously made.
Like fuel, I raise it in tides,
To notice what truly resides,
In the bones,
In the stones,
In the Hell I’ve witnessed about you,
For the Heaven that shall come to undo
The silence in the deathly blue.
Holds a nothing, as I caress flesh with two fingers.
As I set sail across porcelain,
And draw out the markers on enfeebled land.
She is dead.
But, I am wed
With a woman, with the white,
I will treasure, in all my sight.
How love rules over the cruelest of blights!
The sun raised,
As the form plays
With the wind, with my sighs
Upon the skin, upon what shies
Away from the touches.
She falls, and I am remembered to see,
That all I loved, is something to never be
Of my heart.