Smile for me now my cotton,
My ever temptress, soft.

Waves curl through your blink
And scald,
And I can almost tongue the woe of the ruffian Gods
You sashayed through
In frail stalks of perfume.

For they, too, sloped into your soul
At dusk
And charred.

Only they have called your locks down
From tameless crests and sighed

Splitting their lobes with brief licks of feel
And court the doom
Of never again.

And I,
A shuffling swirl of cretin to your muse,
Have wished upon your solid
In dreams I wake to cleanse.

If not to taste your brush-off
In some sacred cloak of glam
Then to clutch
A holy bliss
Of how I left,
Completely insane