She sings, mostly at night, pouring words from her coveted heart
tapestries rich with regret and carnal groans, bring heat and quench thirst
with tears.
She sings, do you hear her melody
as it reaches in to chill your soul?
I am obsessed with her fluid form
as she runs through our midst
wearing her path through life's granite sidings.
She is everything and nothing to all. She is both the glory of sunrise and the fear within darkness. A riddle within the enigma of an existence mourned. I celebrate the death of each lover that has serenaded without honour at her broken threshold, overjoyed by the lack of harmony as they flounder within her precious stare.