Banquet for the stare,
Wandering across debris of fallen silk,
Red upon the lips, where twilight dreads
A spread fever from the woman’s ilk.
She gives nod to disease of sin
Walking where farewells can begin,
Slid from flesh white as milk.
Raven tress, among deepest eyes
Holding no glint of what remembers
Thumping hearts for the forsaken voyage
Where each flame falls empty.
A bite upon the surge of loss
To a contagion’s entertainment
In love’s dark abandonment,
As memories become foiled.
She stalks the morning where the scent
Upon her form, leaves through
Stains on a dirtied windowsill,
Where each teardrop was rained.
She grows a story underneath
Her rosy cheeks that never leave
Imprints for what is beneath
As a fire for all to deceive.
Promised made, promises believed
For the heart she made halt,
With a kiss to reveal the fault.