Tower

She is a salt tower, a beacon stood On thimble cliffs and gulfs of giant steps Swallowing her apple core and flooding Night with a mouthful of demons Lighting the way to perfection As she overshadows her own alliances She is manipulating the tide like apron strings She dragged along the parents like puppetry And broke her Versailles to achieve nothing at all Bursting into luminescence, a North Star edging To a stable alive with arsenist whisper and Melancholy echoes of skipping songs and nicknames Open eyes look, a stream of black seeping beneath And around ivory fingers, cold penetrating to the bone A brush stroke of hair moving with jellyfish grace Hush. The steel womb passing over paper trails and Ink, a giant whale with stomach stacked full of plankton men Searching out a siren for an Ariel but darkness brings the rocks