Winter Song
The snow on your eyelids that curtsy with ageIs freezing the stares on tyranny's wings.The bitter is hard and the warmth of your skinIs diseased with familiar caresses.
Withdrawing from splendor and royal decayAmong all the triumphs and jaded awardsThe angry and blazing circus of sunBlasphemes as the crown prince arises.
You cannot beget all the sins that you oweTo the people of paradise magicPretend to answer passion and formWith foreign rationalizations.
Primroses are the jewels that lurkAmong masks of pleasure that flicker with doubtEmbraces of fame that's simultaneously fearTo advance and demand to be recognized.
The river shall flow through hollow green facesOf caricature's resentment etched out of the tongues.Both reluctant princess asleep before birthThe classical sensitive failures.
The worshipping wicked cling to the dark of your heartLying there and wait with your angelsMoan and ravish from dawn to duskThe avaricious young lovers.