Your full of lust pretentious smile of destiny
Is like the pale expression of the pray
When the vultures demand your incarnation
Yet no tailor or hunter’s now eager to protect you
Unless you offer every mouthful of your breath
And every precious peak of your pale complexion
As the mirror turns its back invisible against you
There’s a lake where the swan song goes on
Upwards struggling necks for beauty and perfection
Devoted to the stars of love the celebration
While the wise oak trees hide all the insecurity
Rooting deep in silence that everything surrenders
To the lotus flower the sun becomes so grateful
A throat like tunnel leading to a cave of sacrifice
Your full of lust pretentious eyes are willing to accept.
12/31/2009