The Dusk White Waif

The silver of her eyes twinkled its last
On the edge of a frail escarpment in halted dust

Explosion of beauty raked through hair
Drinking deep the delicious evening Ocean

Her fields of sunflowers garishly dyed red
Bloodied while in the path where sunlight gave

Orange paper sun scattering its liquid ashes
Flowing fluidly in the stems of the sky's gashes

Angry scarlet painting, in her hands a sinful parody
Screaming were the seagulls' cry of blasted cacophony

Falling mutedly into the maw of a ferocious tide
The sun sank as night explodes in visceral infection

Hear lunar tears fall rapidly up against a black storm
The sorrow of the wailing wind tripped across the norm

Sobbing clenching whisp, perched on her private cliffs
Stained damp-white glow, magnificent and time-sieved

Shaken by beauty, touched and ravaged in purity
A crying silhouette outlined a strange clarity

As when the tears did stop and her soft sobs melted
Her laden eyes feasted on an infinity of stars

Galaxies of White dwarves diminished, blue and tamed
Faraway wonders each unsung and constantly unnamed

She eased into the grass and sighed a loved melody
Each sparkle a kiss upon her face in exposed frailty

The silver of her eyes twinkled its final flicker
When her gentle paper eyelids trembled back over

Caressed by the haunted sigh of a night breeze
Sleep, she did, hidden by her lover's sorcery.