She would paint on a solemn face
to walk undisturbing into your world
of silver towers and streets of marble white,
yet in mine she could wear a clean sight.

She would file down her fangs
to whisper sweetness within your halls
of opulence and feigned delight,
yet in mine she'd bare them in starlight.

She would shut close her lilac eyes
to fool herself into seeing just the veneer
and not the rot beneath your noble court,
yet in mine she'd see the beauty in the dirt.

She would smother herself in lace
to blend in with the specters that lurk
within you entourage of pomp and nightmare,
yet in mine she could run naked without care.

She would drown her voice in vile liquor
to hold her soul from flying away in spite
from all that you've done in her name,
yet with me she would drink in the sky-flame.

She would be loved.
Her voice would soar.
No paint on her face.
No more.

I dream of you
when I close my eyes
and run through the golden fields
naked of all fear
and covered in the sunlight
of whom I hold most dear
taking in the yield
of passion's highs
as I rush to you.

I dream of you
when I open my eyes
and walk through the grey streets
veiled in mundane dismay
and covered in the soot
of machination gone astray
from the golden wheat
of desire's lies
as I stride to you.

I dream of you
endlessly.

And I dream
that you dream
of me
even fleetingly.

Tell me
Screaming from the rooftops
And I'll swim to shore,
Out of the salt desert of swirling waves,
For to drown in your arms
Is better than anything.

Tell me,
Saying it with your eyes
More than with lips or teeth,
That breathing would never
Be as sweet as kissing you
Until my lungs fill up with laughter.

Tell me,
Whispering among the pines
And I'll brave the wildfires,
Blind and breathless in the choking dark,
For to burn in your desire
Is better than anything.

Tell me,
Voicing it with your every heartbeat
More than with tongue and cheek,
That breathing would never
Be as vital as kissing you
Until my lungs fill up with joy.

Tell me,
Shouting from the shoreline
And I'll climb every mountain,
Up into the ice desert of gleaming stars,
For to hold in every breath shared with you
Will keep time still for awhile.

there is a small fire,
a flickering light,
akin to a firefly lost
in the cold mists of night,
shining bright where
my joy should be.

there is a deep well,
a profound darkness,
akin to a cavern flooded
with frigid dark waves
echoing eternally
to the sound of loneliness.

there is a lackluster wreckage,
a broken trireme,
akin to a kingly one
that sailed out of Ithaca,
bleeding memories through
a gashing wound.

there is a rhyme,
a shattered syllable,
akin to a muffled shout
that reverberated throughout
those splintered blinks
of a forlorn childhood...

motherless.

to be sheltered in loving arms,
to be held in sunlight above the crowd
so they may see you bask
in radiance.
to be nurtured.
Would I ever know what it feels like?

fatherless.

to be sheltered in a brave heart,
to be held in moonlight above the crowd
so they may never hurt you
in darkness.
to be protected.
Would I ever know what it feels like?

loverless.

to be sheltered in adoring eyes,
to be held in starlight above the crowd
so you may know truest love
in purity.
to be enamored.
Would I ever know what it feels like?

childless.

to be the shelter.
to hold above the crowd.
to be kissed by a rose on the grave.
to be missed.
Would I ever know what it feels like?