Monday, June 7, 2010

Ah! Un soupir...

(Still working on some parts, but felt like recording it anyway.)


A Sigh


claw-marks etched over a white wisp of skin
draw out drops, trace a trail red as wine thick as sin
from my lips stretch a sigh, long as day and as wide as the world

I know not but somewhere I relinquished my hands,
tongue, and ears, but my breath in my body still stands
ivory-eyed soldier-ghost stately stands a post, frenzied-frozen

weighted down, body bent by a hallowed intent racous-whispered

when, when, when, O wistful and wayward one will you be mine?
then, O thou, let thaw throbbing thoughts into tears of I am thine

claw-marks with ease, jeweled blood draw me in
breathe a bridge to my body and lessen the din

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