Red, Black and White

In the autumn twilight

Whence mighty greybeard fog is the smell of moisture in wind

The day kisses the night

 

And the fog; cold, clinical, conservative

grabs his wanton daughter by hair, to drag her home in shame

Fiercely she holds on, digging deep, and blood spills

 

Blood; red, hot, sparkling, smeared over the horizon

The dusk flickers, one last brush of lips, a dying flame

The world is giddy; red, black and white

 

Condensed sobs; tipper, tapper on leaves and meadows

As night slithers, imprisoned in wintry cloaks, leaving trails for morrow

And, few bloody droplets adorn her lips still, she calls them her stars

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