Monday, 3 October 2011

Ball Gowns

She's an explosion inside a circle, courting me with the sun. I burn just to be beside her, from her reflected glow. All day I hear her calling to me from petals of voracious meat. Raw velvet with thorns who taste my blood if I try to hold her. She bows her head now autumn is near, so I steal my chance to cut and possess her to darken and dry in my room. Where in winter I re-kindle her past.


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