Mourning Kills Me

Your beauty beyond comprehension bleeds from Azimuth to the stars tender petals frozen in blue light pique at the dawn in delight As your fingers glide smoothing air soft fingers through colours poured to dye and paint a Monet of illusion Crossing my eyes on southern stars receding from the night, bereft, hopelessness my plight  the loss again of my habitat  The fondly brittle white petals lay across my naked breasts nipples harden at hot tongues end as hands frame the ribs of Adam I die at your fading shadows sliding into a coughing sarcophagus I reach into the sign of the cross holding it within a chambered heart again and again I am risen to mourn again and again I grieve the passion of Night, I am divest my position and I am adrift in an illuminated lie As days nails crease into my fresh as her insistent tongue flickers life coaxing me, pleasing me with pretties finding I am pulled into her numbed Slowly the hours cover me in sin Slowly minutes forgive transgressions , but whispering fingers of dark flicker waving evenings magnificent glory stains The night has claimed my everything in pain with evenings fall I resurrect again