CompassWhen I Was A FlameCompass
Dripping grain by grain, Your heart drips like a drain You smile despite your pain Like a doll, your private princess I take the blame
Face formed in the creases of books Your eyes blind, sunlight on a tree The lips beneath the brook’s caved mouth You lie outstretched, On maroon Woven by desire And forced from flesh
Three maidens behind One pointing to the end,
The other the near
And the last far The compass points to the south Your smile is a snarl Spinning in a golden frame, T
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