I see Melancholia as she struts on by
her lips painted blood-scarlet, raven-haired, dressed in black and fishnets. We look very much alike.
Her sister Euphoria, I'm not so familiar with...
her sun-golden hair, and her smile that floats through the air. She's lovely, I wish she would pay me more visits.
Melancholia gives me her melted smokey-eyed glare,
Euphoria, her pink-rose cheek smiling stare.
Melancholia is an old friend of mine.
Euphoria is a stranger to me, but I hope to know her better in time.
Melancholia stops to talk with me she says "Would you like to see a grin on my face?...
well, you'll have to carve it in with the sharpest of blades
it is only then that I will be allowed
to show you my smile of Glasgow..."
but I have no desire to see the bleeding dagger teeth of Melancholia
I don't want them to dig into and puncture my fragile glass mosaic memoria...
If they do my memories will shatter and break apart
and I will lose myself along with those cracked shards.