Like Faberge, your surface delicate secrets keep. Your turn guards the only edges in a flash of auburn embers.

Frailty stay yourself; this is no time for tears. Uniform quality of essence pervades your spirit, inviting me to drink.

Your house turns not into itself, but outward at the coming waves, Cheshire in challenge.

Remain within those seams and coal your diamond be, but let the tailor trim and see all that we can be.

This feral jinx, having crested and crashed, lets not the berm erode. This knife is simply for cooking now.

Let the strums stroke nylon in tune, lulling this trenchant wit upon the step.

I’ll bake us both in bread and wrap this sullied soul in warm cotton thread.