A thought.
I am fading. I am raining. No complaining.
Prodigy of Love flowing
Through my rivers of sweat.
My skin is wet.
I have lost Direction in Time's Incineration.
Black Waves and Wavering. Digression.
I ask Fate about keylocks while striving for Choices.
Where am I, Tower? Blind Doubt rejoices.
Am I the heiress of Shiver? My fingers quiver.
I'm crawling on the ivy of Frustration.
You, manly power, go build your home right there.
Don't move within my world. Don't steal my perfumed air.
Hush...I'm thinking now...The history's repeating.
Strange body alchemy: three words and Chemistry.
It has to do with angles. And soul geometry.
Flesh tapestry. The cycle is completing...
Death is resurrection. Circle of Perfection.
Now man go round the corner - walk on tiptoe -
Don't burn my lawn - sleepy at dawn.
Don't step, but fly. Don't ever lie.
You must have high precision
With my gangrened indecision
This is a psychic Soul incision.
Tower of Babel - babbling hearts -
I am your Queen. The queen of Spleen.
The Apple grows black velvet sin
beneath its shiny skin.
Postpone my quickening: O, Love
I know a language in which pain
Does not rhyme with rain. Hold back.
I praise my brain.
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