I find myself putting on a show for eyes that do not see me as human. My movements are rehearsed, not for the joy of expression, but for the survival of a woman in a world that prefers her to be spectacle.

Slowly slipping the silk of my shoulders teasing no one but the walls. The air around me is cool, indifferent, The only thing that touches me without expectation.

I am a wisp of flesh bound to earth only by wanting. A hollow figure made whole by his eyes, seeking to hold me to drag me here in this world of flesh, But I am not of it. I am thought. I am soul. I am the poetry of my own being, I am more than the silence he assumes speaks only of longing.

But I will always be flesh, The embodiment of desire, A symbol, a thing-never a whole. An empty chalice into which he pours The wine of his longing, never wondering If the vessel itself thirsts for something more.

And so the silk falls, Again and again,
For an audience that never understands
The torment of playing a role
That was never meant to be mine.

Each day I mourn, I rot within my cell,  
A prisoner to my own foul decay,  
Dazed and confused, repulsed by the display.
Sweet is the stench of garments worn too long,  
Of rotting fare beside my fevered bed,  
A rank perfume from A quiet tomb where all but hope has fled.

Beneath the sheets, I sink to shadow's maw,  
Into the void, where nothing else is fed,  
But the cold embrace of self and flaw.  
My flesh fused with cloth in grim despair,  
A grotesque union 'twixt the flesh and grave,  
Where I consume myself, a feast of air.

The night becomes a grim theatre where my repressed sorrows play out.
A mournful tale of life and death unfolds,  
A spark, once brilliant, now fades to a mere wisp,  
A fleeting ember in the shadowed night.

And thus, in sorrow’s grip, I waste away,  
A ghostly shadow of what once was whole.  
The creeping rot consumes both night and day,  
Till nothing but my wretched bones remain.  
Each breath I draw, a prelude to my fall,  
Each tear, a testament to endless pain.  

A mirror shows my face, a hollow mask,  
Reflecting not the youth I used to be,  
But haunted eyes that beg the final task—  
To free this soul from torment's cruel decree.  
In darkness deep, I yearn for dawn’s soft light,  
To break these chains that bind me to the night.

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

If you want a lover
I'll do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
I'll wear a mask for you
If you want a partner
Take my hand
Or if you want to strike me down in anger
Here I stand
I'm your man
If you want a boxer
I will step into the ring for you
And if you want a doctor
I'll examine every inch of you
If you want a driver
Climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride
You know you can
I'm your man
Ah, the moon's too bright
The chain's too tight
The beast won't go to sleep
I've been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees
Or I'd crawl to you baby
And I'd fall at your feet
And I'd howl at your beauty
Like a dog in heat
And I'd claw at your heart
And I'd tear at your sheet
I'd say please, please
I'm your man
And if you've got to sleep
A moment on the road
I will steer for you
And if you want to work the street alone
I'll disappear for you
If you want a father for your child
Or only want to walk with me a while
Across the sand
I'm your man
If you want a lover
I'll do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
I'll wear a mask for you

Let me be yours... let your final breaths be a lament of my name,  
A soft echo on your lips, as life gently fades,  
Let me be the delicate fruit between your fingers,  
Squeezed of its flesh, essence seeping through,  
Devoured with a hunger only love can birth,  
Lick the nectar off your fingers,  
Savor me in gentle breaths, each one a lingering taste.

Let me dwell in your mind, a constant presence,  
In the midnight of your thoughts, in the afternoon haze,  
And in all your morning glory, when the world wakes anew,  
Let me be the sunlight on your skin,  
As spring stretches into the warm embrace of summer,  
Welcomed as an old lover returning home.

Let me whisper the sickly sweet words that haunt your dreams,  
Let my voice be the echo that fills your nights,  
The longing that curls around your heart,  
Let me be the sweetness that lingers, even in your sorrow,  
A love too tender to ever truly fade.

Stolen kisses wavering in the soft rain,  
You kissed me just to kiss me, light, feathered, and pure,  
As if the sky itself whispered our names,  
In a language only we understood.

The world held its breath,  
Each drop a secret, every sigh a promise,  
But the rain, like time, slipped through our hands,  
Carrying away the taste of your lips,  
And the warmth that lingers, even now.

I find myself chasing echoes,  
Searching for the shimmer of that moment,  
When your lips met mine in a fleeting dance,  
A tender theft, leaving me with the sweetest ache.  

You kissed me just to kiss me,  
And I’m left dreaming of the rain,  
Where every drop still sings of you.

I still dream of you sometimes…

The great hills in your green eyes as you took in my figure like you saw what I could not.

Each stroke a testament to love's embrace, A bittersweet masterpiece painted upon my face.

Your gentle nature and the way it flowed through your fingertips, from a pen to a brush, to my skin. Akin to nature's grace, in its rhythm divine.

You're gone now but I still feel you watching me, your soft breath against my face as I sleep.

Your illusory presence, in my thoughts, do creep, As I lay in solitude, in sorrow's keep.

I've cried for you many times but that night I wept like a widow in the dark sheets.

Your silhouette stares at me from the wall across our bed but now, but I lay on the floor. You no longer move to lay me to bed you just stare a ghostly glare.
No more warm skin, no more sweet vows just spectral figures and still air.