Stop these | 1 |
induced mysteries | 2 |
bewildering, while your harlot mind | 3 |
unfolds in my palm, your eyes | 4 |
sickened to the marrow | 5 |
deceive, body cold as flesh lay grim | 6 |
on the landscape of your victorian floor, | 7 |
ring that meaninglessly shine | 8 |
dissents your intrepid finger | 9 |
and kisses held useful on the dressing table; | 10 |
dust-covered moth-eaten. | 11 |
| |
Unmask the dominoes | 12 |
and finish all your lies | 13 |
calligraphed | 14 |
by your charcoal tongue the river of Camelot awaits | 15 |
to see you grow beautiful someday in reflections | 16 |
and thereby | 17 |
i shall paint you in verses | 18 |
in the portrait of the lady of shallot. | 19 |