Your swan’s neck lays gracefully draped across

the dark guillotine of my heart’s desire…

eyes dimmed beneath the shadow of the cross,

with arms pale and limp before the night’s fire.

 

Fever courses red-hot through the dark eve,

the dew of love sprinkled on your rose-bud lips…

veiled moonlight paints the shadows full of leaves,

outlines the silver curve of midnight ships.

 

The sea is crashing dark against the shore,

the sand lays white as freshly-driven snows…

the landscape will be dark forever more,

the deep earth caught in silent, shadowed throes.

 

The wine of music hums throughout these lands,

the trees do bear the deadly fruit of queens…

poisoned by the hate of ill-tempered hands

that tremble not at the slicing of spleens.

 

Deep the discovery found beneath skin,

pealed back the pale layers to the blood

and scraped away the ignorance of sin,

which cakes us weary travelers like mud.

 

Armed by innocence, you beget desire,

with lips of dew and eyes of wild passion,

the sweat reflected by a dancing fire

that by your golden teeth you would fashion…

 

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