her hair flows down from her shoulders
as the softest moonlight cast in the darkest of nights
it captivates in both shadow and sight
hinting at what may be there
and disclosing what is not
her countenance is whispery lace
a net of snowfall descending in the streetlamp
it is shocking to the eyes when it is met
it is cold to the cheek when it is touched
and is wet to the lips when kissed
she is barely noticeable at times
hiding herself away when she ends
yet when she is ready to begin again
she bellows out into bloom
putting the brightest of diamond twinkles to shame
silvery sheen and midnight blue she wears
beyond the evening she slips into the abyss
blessing dreamers until they wake
and lovers while they quake
yet she will only take the hand of darkness
to be her partner
in her dance across the starlit celestial ballroom
No comments:
Post a Comment