Adrian

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.

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.

And I have tasted the sweeter fruits of death,

the curse, the sinew, and the blood on your breath.