Katie cries as passion dies,
knee deep in leaves and summer lies.
Fortune stroked on skin so tender
ticked with touch of sunlit splendor.
Wearily she cradles flowers,
tucked in green romantic bowers.
Suckled as a babe at breast,
tripping down soft evenings crest.
Staring through black coffee eyes,
donning feathers plucked from skies.
Emulating higher days
when dearer faith bought risen pay.
Yet still she yearns in flashbulb fierceness,
blinding, brilliant in her weakness.
Praying silent suns to set.
Praying, praying hearts to rest.
Fingers claw in fragile matter,
earthen worms to gently gather.
Broken fingers breaching glass
running river's ancient past.
Molded hands in kneaded dough,
covered sight in shallow bowl.
Licking fingers, licking toes,
swallowed sugar, tongues do roll.
Swirled spices cover roots,
gnarled branches, spinning brooks.
Grounded in a paupers bed,
fires of reason, burning red.
Thunder sounds as nature meant it,
shuddered souls in wicked tempest.
Hung to dry in sullied heaven,
yeast to brew in bread, unleavened.
Twisted trunk of nature's daughter,
Katie screams as father taught her.
Flesh to blood sears blood of beast,
mourning thrice, unjust release.
Gold trophy winner
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and much love~ Desire~*~