Your eyes were vacant, hollow
Sallow - the colour of your putrid heart
Art is only art when someone doesn't get it.

To be quite candid, I never did get you
Your lying fumes made my alveoli suffer
You tried to buffer your mistakes

But in vain...

The scar on your left ear
Caused by the fear of being overshadowed
Widowed by the loss of your sister
But hey, mister, don't you dare look me in the eye.

Because I am the second primary on a falcon's right wing
I am the initial temperature drop of winter
No hunter can possess the desire to possess my desire.

My lilac fur of disdain scalds the corneas of my opposition
My partially sheathed claws sharpened on the skulls of my deficiencies
Lie waiting, famished
Polished by your lies , greed & misery
Fissures of my hidden deception
In a glass tumbler
Tempting green apple and cinnamon.

So now, stuck on top of a pine tree
You begin your cautious decent
To the seemingly clear coast below
Roasted almonds and marshmallows
And I
Hiding the shadows themselves
Will extend my scaly grasp
Onto your left tibia.