‘CIRCLE OF STATUES’

Fashioning my last fang
into a skeleton key
to split this frozen sea;
your depths of endless degrees.

Distant dreamer,
melting in a fever.
I can still see her
in my golden mirror.

Study your subtle 
idiosyncrasies,
Pocket your secrets 
like a thief,
and pen this page with 
fingers that bleed.

Distant dreamer,
melting in a fever.
I can still see her
in my golden mirror.

Circle of statues.
This story is our
secret rendezvous.
I see now that I
was wrong to leave you.
The words from my pen:
a writhing tattoo. 
Carve that lesson deep
and we start anew.
Chip away the scabs
that we have accrued.

I won't leave my bed
for something less than
fairy tale romance. 
Call this abstract art?
I will rip you apart.
No charts, no stars, but
I will find your heart;
manual restart.

Distant dreamer,
melting in a fever.
I can still see her
in my golden mirror.

I am the storm that 
swallows midnight suns.
Boiling black clouds: 
my deluge begun.
Sweeping swirling cyclone
Cast aside the known
for dulcet sounds of silence,
for tender technicolor tones.

CIRCLE OF STATUES
Written by pen name Jungle (N.F.N.)
(C) 2021, All rights reserved

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