Emily Dickinson and the 21st Century

To the window in your sky i say.
Why must i pay the anguish of ecstasy
in tears.

When
I lost my world in you,
beloved bitter star that you
pawned off
for nothing less than
me.

Leaving me the legacy of man,
the one beneath the realm of sands,
that once merged between your toes,
A barefoot goddess,
numb as the prick of a steel magnolioa.

Existing between the lines,
of the poetry you sigh.
Like such of feathers fallen from a
Robbin in your hair.

You packed your pretty face
and like the Robbin headed south,
You left your smile on the table.

But your lips had already claimed their lover.
So i did the right thing i suppose,
reuniting you with the pen once more.