our love was dipped in luxury
and you were made of gold
i always liked pretty shiny things
until they got old
golden eyes, 2am nights
made loving you seem worth it
but secrets, lies, and unresolved fights
made loving you a burden
they could have hung us in the louvre
had we stayed in gold forever
but we were only carat plated
and nickel at our center

Put me under the spell of maur night,
Let me sip from the drinks of celestial gods,
Lighten me on a sky-bed of heavenly stars, When receiving  the offerings of nocturnalight.

Cover my body with holy rays, songs of praise, Adoring dreams dressed in golden sheepskin, Happily grazing on faith’s meadow spreading
The noble fragrance of sweet-bitter laurel.

Let me sleep in nocturnal goodness tonight.
Let me sleep in nocturnal goodness ...
Let me sleep ...
Sleep ...
Sip ...
S ...

The lure of gold brought Fifty-Niner’s in droves
     to the Kansas-Nebraska territory
laden with packs, picks, pans and shovels -
      hell-bound for adventure and facile wealth.

Placer miners squatted beside frigid streams,
    dipping their pans and filling their sacks
with nuggets bound for the assayer's verdict.

Mine towns sprang up where the veins were strong.
    In ******* Creek, Leadville, Independence and Central City,
the valleys rang with the strident cacaphony of
     drills and explosives - burrowing shafts deep
into the ore-rich valleys and mountain slopes.

Headlamps lit and shadowed mazes of timbered tunnels
     where men piled rock high into mine cars
headed for the mammoth crushers at Idaho Springs.

Whiskey freely flowed in saloons and hotels
     where raucous miners let off steam with
every mode and cast of ***** talk pleasures

In time, the veins were spent and profits dwindled.
     When the drama ended and the curtain fell,
the miners vanished - leaving only ghost towns behind
      and a new state named for its reddish river – Colorado.

just like my eyes hurt, whenever I venture
a step outside my antrum

so they do, whenever I look at you.
and when I shut my eyes, the sun is gone

your eyes still pierce through
rebellious daughter of Midas

you turned your left wing into gold
of what avail is the other one now?

and your heart that glistens
oh what price you have paid

i hate the way i tremble
even as your knee brushes against my toe,
as if a simple gesture was enough to make me fall again.

i hate the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you laugh,
the way you talk so easily,
words gliding from your mouth
so distinguishable i can almost feel them land on my skin,
like water droplets when it is drizzling.

you are dangerous,
you with your delicate beauty
like a wash of gold upon my eyes,
like the lifting of a curtain in a dark, dusty room.

i am blinded by you.
and i hate being blind.

There are lives I haven't remembered
Memories that are like caged birds
Freckles on skin to give recollection of a sun
I have bathed in when I was once young
The moment I find the gold in the pan of dirt
My simplicity is gone
Trays of tea and food only make me want more
Servants are steadily changing
As I get older
Where does youth go as I age?
Who does my brother become?
Is my sister still around?
There is a starting point after 10 years
Before I know it I'm 30 years old
Without a child or husband
Without a home or car
Still living in my dad's house
How do I move on?