pour over my tarot book
pour over my heart slashed and torn
in the chapel of good and evil
blood splats over your temple
a shrine to your sleeping babe a knight
sleeping in then forest as the fire rages in the lions belly
waiting for the dragon to emerge full in form and beauty
ascending from the water down on your head with fire
hair piles high in the witches cauldron
light shafts cutting rainbows thro the room
awaken he finds his sword gone
replaced with seed pods filled with nymphs and angels
blonde again and bored already
lemon crests and the city lights alone at night
yourself alone and looking out onto the world below
sparkling with mystery and bitter familiarity
No comments:
Post a Comment