What I remember most would have to be
Her eyes
They were fashioned from ice
And their black depths were emptiness.
Ice, black ice.
She wore a gown
One that feather out to a full skirt
Of black iciness.
Her skin was glazed porcelain,
Her hair a platinum nest.
I knew when I first saw her
That coming near her
Would be a fatal mistake
But my sister found her enchanting
And that trance was a ****** weapon.
I only remember one other thing about her:
A dragonfly ring the size of a tumor
Soaked in blood, dominating three fingers.
That woman, I suppose,
Was completely built from ice.
Ice.