A Red Thousand
His portrait on the knave-
defining royalty, a smile aglow
Ravenous heart,
stone cold.
Bestowing a brush to the paper lips
Leadeth my knees to collapse, a kneel
Feet chained to his heart, eyes in eclipse
A combusting irritation to the feel
Rouge chaps his glass cheek-
Crows whirring in his eyes extend
A smile grim, tapestry lips,
kissed a red thousand.
Thy lips hath burnt mine-
defriends my patience,
beheads my mind.
Copyright © Alyssa Finley | Year Posted 2006
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