Winter Song

The snow on your eyelids that curtsy with age Is freezing the stares on tyranny's wings. The bitter is hard and the warmth of your skin Is diseased with familiar caresses. Withdrawing from splendor and royal decay Among all the triumphs and jaded awards The angry and blazing circus of sun Blasphemes as the crown prince arises. You cannot beget all the sins that you owe To the people of paradise magic Pretend to answer passion and form With foreign rationalizations. Primroses are the jewels that lurk Among masks of pleasure that flicker with doubt Embraces of fame that's simultaneously fear To advance and demand to be recognized. The river shall flow through hollow green faces Of caricature's resentment etched out of the tongues. Both reluctant princess asleep before birth The classical sensitive failures. The worshipping wicked cling to the dark of your heart Lying there and wait with your angels Moan and ravish from dawn to dusk The avaricious young lovers.