There is a voyage
Unreached in this
Granite rainfall. A rhythm

And patter hammer upon an
Arid wasteland and its attraction
to overthinking. And to

This night we drink muted song,
Draining the mud chalices that
Are brimming with fermented blood. A single

Drop of crimson flame dances
Across knuckles strained white
With wanting. An insatiable appetite

Hangs above her stretching
Neckline, a single frame of
Infinity, floating defiantly,

Heavier than gravity can trap,
As we send stones softer than
The footsteps of these foreign words

Towards the visage of a lunar flare.
A very bitter taste paints
The picture of her collarbone,

A certain kind of riddance
To more tender times.
Whispering shades of blue, the

Blurry contours trace the hair
Flutter threads of moon rays, dragging me
Towards the shrinking horizon,

the other side of love.
Ecstasy and eternity sit upon
The lips of her simmering Winter.