Red Roses on Her Breast

Stumbling into bedroom gaze

of her pleading eyes,

he couldn’t avoid falling into

starlight shining on her raven hair,

her crystal tears transparent,

leading his way on her ruby road.

Her spiked kiss ripped apart his seams,

shredding him into little strips

as her black marble eyes mirrored

warnings and a black crow cawed,

its flesh and bones gone from

its feathers resting underground.

He sensed her existence slipping

through his outstretched fingers

as a midnight dove guided his way

to the black fate that led him astray.

He kissed her on her dusky skin

hearing winds of mourning wail

and felt her floating cold and lifeless

His kiss of death couldn’t rivet

his rivers of love inside –

it was like holding in tears

in a porous rag of dust.

Her love must live endlessly

below the ground of death.

He kicked the chair out

below his tired feet

joining her where she lay

with red roses on her breast.