Enjoy.
Deep in the past.
Far into the forest of willows.
She stalks my sight.
And I'm blinded by praise.
Too buried deep in the Earth of fantasy roses.
I gaze at her soul.
Her life.
And doesn't look away.
A power lurks in the shine of 'er eyes, her light. Her iris.
And emptiness lies in the dark, her mystery. Her sclera.
And darkness, lies in the middle, her soul. Her pupil.
With this comes balance in the gaps, her guilt. 'Er tears.
In the wanderings and endurance of willows wonders.
And sacredness and curiosity of poppy dreams.
We stare at each other.
And we breathe each other.
Until she is all I can see.
Until I am all she can see.
And without such disassembled greetings.
And regurgitated words.
We fall prey.
We steadily increase in restlessness.
And carelessness.
And forbid the charade.
And suffer through this process.
Of self control.
And loss of self control.
Neutral control.
Cupping cheeks.
Staring down.
She'll haunt my dreams.
And my life.
My thoughts.
My memories.
My words.
My touch.
My emotions.
All for the sake of contorted evil and good.
And for the burdening curse.
She'll posses my soul.
With such evil.
Permanently around me.
Permanently inside me.
Permanently with me.
Skin dark and viscous.
From a beautiful pale.
Eyes of malice and ill intent.
From a lovely joy.
I fear she forever sees me.
Knows me.
Senses me.
Praise me with pain and lies.
In the willow tree forest.
In the poppy meadows.
In the rose bushes; and my praise.
I can never not see her anymore.
Either.
