A subtle manipulation of the senses,
Elegantly refined black blessing
Rippling across deeply engrained
Misconceptions of reality that
Blossom crimson with thorns
All too easily in this absence of light;
Where swank-styled demonic hounds
Might beat one down with the
Trappings of twisted contracts,
They carefully side-step your shadow,
Falling silent and humbled in the darkness
That follows liquid like a veil of dying stars,
Spreading ink tainting the past,
Clinging to your clothing
Like inchworm webbing,
Slowly strangling an ancient oak;
Graceful like a harrowing secret,
Your form whispers
Onto the barstool beside me,
Tentacles of intrigue tugging
Silently at my soul like a creeping
Rose vine cracking a plaster face
Of ancient hieroglyphs;
I watch history crumble to dust below
The snaking dance of
Cigarette smoke between us,
Until our eyes meet
In the silver reality we now share,
Your lips curling,
A dark and timeless kiss
Of dreams'¦

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