Sorry Kyle ♥
Wasted crags tower high above,
light shimmering through silken dove
On tumbling mound of stones thy stand,
Mad laugh echoing, shifting weak base and
Hair strand leaps, fluttering down
Ancient crags stare on frown,
bright dilation sees my smile remaining,
swift summer winds keeps thy voice retaining
I see all in thine eyes,
from thy deepest desire, aye,
sweet lips catching color,
ere the boulder boudoir
Crooked crag rock beneath indifferent design,
lone, I and mine
When dost thou see,
from knee to quivering knee,
I cannot but be,
above thee in tree,
as thou searcheth for me,
letting me never be free,
from my want for thee
I sigh under deep grey winter sky,
sending vile gale to thee,
for thou dost not see by and by,
my unending joy on thy soft suade lips
Sad glances my way, do not let die,
lest I wreak my love upon thee
Like a red balloon sword thy stand,
outside air forcing in, undetered,
yet rubbery skin unyielding
Dost thou see thy air seeping out,
deserting for open fields?
Without air thou art but a flimsy skin,
ruptured, broken, bare
I may be thy better backbone,
forever inseparable from thy undead skin,
but dare to refuse the bliss I give,
and return to traitorous fools,
then the day shall come,
when thy air fails again,
and I will be there,
tearing thy precious red ballon skin,
and tossing it 'round the room