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The clouds moved
Trembled under nervous agitation
She whispered to him:
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‘Member those heydays
In the evanescent delicacy
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When I would stare in your eyes of amaze
Clear as the stream
And I would call you to the House
And my voice a harangue turned
A vast distant whispering swish
Along broad boulevards of you the Lost Lovelorn
Now
Behind the veils
Streams of translucent colours
Like the most fragile fabric
And at the bottom edge
A profound and fiery crimson
Like the fires of Hades
You no longer longed for
The tears that splintered
The light
The sins that shimmered even further
Into prismatic rainbows
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