The dust had risen in the swelling heat.
Cold was the
heart which she wrapped up within
Her howling hair, that coiled the boundless skies -
A restless soul my heritage
Disguised as motive progressing through the
nature of these reformed years;
Masking branded breath, bleeding from a smile
Of salvation, abandoned into tears.
The myth of a two-way truth created -
desecration of the kiss;
Effecting the loss of what I ne'er owned."
Those were my words; the ancient dying hiss.
A swollen, broken sky torn at its seams,
and climactic grace.
I know the heart and I have seen the tears -
I see them before they roll down your face.