Erotic Lament
Singing wide eyed,
she drives me mad,
to suicide.
Up there in the air,
can you hear? I'm in for
another slide.
Through the veil and the blue electric haze,
she kisses too
some say...
but not today.
She was perilous.
She was ritual.
She was open child.
She was genius.
Tasting of youth,
but a manner of female
confidence.
It's funny how truth
from others
helps ourselves.
Now she's dead and gone but here in voice.
She's gone there too
some say...
but not today.
She was sexual.
She was delicate.
She was open child.
She was critical.
She was anima.
She was perilous.
She was tiger light.
She was genius.
She was erudite.
She was fantasy.
She was savage in simplicity.
She was ritual.
She was malliable.
She was radiant.
She was radical.
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