Red petals moist, your lips curve so deep
And shine brilliant with dark passion so divine
A hunger primal almost seems to show through there
As if words were flesh on which you dine
The color is a badge of right
That speaks of the full savorings of meaning
As if the rest of us foolishly believe false gods
And anything that isn't bred by your touch is damned at birth, only as a dreaming;

Skin like clouds dance in the light
Yet never absorb it's radiant glow
As if nothing outside those lines existed
Buried passions and wisdom beneath that ivory snow-

And a sweet fragrance radiates from your every step
As if your feet crushed the grandest petal's scents upon there delicate sways
The air seems to stop and die at a touch of your breathe or, forbid, My Lord, your skin
Only then to rush your taste through air, so sharp as knives; The flowing words in which existence, joyous, bathes--

Silence dies without you, the light suffocates like embers fading from dying eyes
We taste the passion, we dine like wine, drunk- and sobriety takes it's toll;
Now gone, your ghost haunts this forest of madness, this sea of despairs,
And it's people weep and moan for another light as pure as that burning red soul.

Oh, those petals, so red, made fields of roses blush'¦
That curvaceous drug that rested, like angels sleeping, on your skin
Intoxicating as the fire that burned in your eyes
The snow white base and the subtlest blend
God wept your passing, when color was bled dry
Gray skies wept tears bitter cold and silenced all light
The day of your passing us, we sinful dreaming fools
Wore ash and sathcloth, that we did not stronger fight
The claws that tore the golden heart from Eden's chest,
That perfect rose from the garden of fallen castle and kings
Dear god!, has been stolen of color and chased into the night
Where we futilely chase your scent, all passing moment, into shameful dreams
Where those lips may still curl so deeply over words, passion red,
Where-in your presence, this world, all still swoons to bow a head

That shame holds no breath now to speak
We pluck free from red fields of ecstacy,no consequence,
To dine so joyously upon the meanings of word
And never pause until the end of time's sentence--

If dreaming my soul wish, never to awake,
My only prayer, Dear God, keep me trapped within this maddening fate.

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