Golden Girl

The parasitical dream has risen

from the skillful strands and streams of her eyes,

and when midnight comes we’ll remember when

we lived off the sweet beauty of her lies.

Her voice was always soft and still and deep,

and just this warmth I will choose to recall…

this golden human image I will keep

of a girl who suffered such a dark fall.

I’ll stand before death, and demand answers…

she fed off our desires and fledgling dreams,

she bore our jewels, and secret cancers,

through the wind of dark nights and endless streams.

So tell me, before I submit to remembered wrath,

why are all golden girls paved such a darkening path?