Once upon a time need not dwell in dream,
For a rose that dwindles to withered sooth
Knows no pale death in pages' buttered cream,
Where the vellum's canvas distills its youth;
With supple sway, the budding trill and furl
While cadent hands compose the lissome gown,
Our eyes meet o'er the blush of florid pearl
Through twists of berry tea and cloves’ dark crown.
A fervent thrum swells from within swathed tulle
As lustre pours down lips in gloaming whist,
That gilds each slowing turn to labent brool
And floods the hollows of a swooning wrist.
The weeping nacre wrought from heaven's mote
Seals splendor from ache 'gainst your arched, flush throat.
Mar 12
Mar 12, 2026 at 7:50 PM UTC
Once upon a time need not dwell in dream,
For a rose that dwindles to withered sooth
Knows no pale death in pages' buttered cream,
Where the vellum's canvas distills its youth;
With supple sway, the budding trill and furl
While cadent hands compose the lissome gown,
Our eyes meet o'er the blush of florid pearl
Through twists of berry tea and cloves’ dark crown.
A fervent thrum swells from within swathed tulle
As lustre pours down lips in gloaming whist,
That gilds each slowing turn to labent brool
And floods the hollows of a swooning wrist.
The weeping nacre wrought from heaven's mote
Seals splendor from ache 'gainst your arched, flush throat.
