Friday, July 31, 2009


The naked woman fell in love
with the Gold Flake man.
Undying loyalty had
sprouted up a plan.

She did not want sorrow
She did not want mirth.
She craved his eye
and his porcelain heart.

She wrapped herself
in dragon-wing gold
The plumage gleamed
on her alabaster mould

she wooed him out
and they played the dance
Iridescent people
And an evening’s romance.

As dawn, dawned
on the naked woman’s brain
the first drop of sun
would leave her naked, again.

She lay there, mortified
as the night sky waned
a latticework of gold
was all that remained.

"I have stitched on the glitter,
I have hemmed in the shine",
said she to the man-
"this is me, all of this, is mine".

The gold flake man
was a man of gold
he shed a sympathy,
and left the rest, untold.


Pretty young thing-floats like tinsel in the air.

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