Woman of the pale Amber lights drinking my vision Apricot blossoms running my veins Erotic strands tracing my flesh Amidst my torrid mind the seed is planted A molding in the shade Dripping red, a flavor forgotten Tendrils of smoke A contusion of my desire Names on the wind calling, yearning A dilution of my sanity Reaching to the angels My dreams wash ashore A reminder of who I am A broken man in lands forgotten Soiled and isolated in dry riverbeds Sterile and strewn My hot rancid words laying all to bare Echoing, my need Delving, my sanctum Walking, my dreams sharp as the blade A silken visage The retina of the eye the woman of the pale Alive and dancing to the sickened beat of my bleeding bosom