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.

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