Charcoal Caravan

I drew the charcoal caravan upon your wrist and on your hand to slowly travel through your blood of blind emotions, quell the flood. Some curry powder dipped in ink shines mine eyes and all I think. It's cinnamon wings in the pale mooned sky brings tears, brings tears to a lover's eyes. While the flutter of fabric made from silk pours flowing colors on a breeze of milk, the coconuts split are filled with muse and the elephants saunter on, two by twos. The noise is intolerable, jingling and jangle rumblings and ramble, slowly they amble as the man with the gold teeth lights the caravan candle. The whole brigade takes on the silently flammable with frankincense resin on the necks of the camels. The traveling charcoal caravan I drew upon your wrist and hand has given you your gypsy blood of blind emotions, quelled the flood...