You are the twilight rose growing out of early season of fire and desire fine as wings of a silken moth made of music and prose
No matter how many times I have painted on your virgin canvass Regardless the distance I have journeyed into your cozy night And forget the poems I have penned over your burning nakedness & all my human plight
In my waking hour you still remain a mystery a breathing Sphinx with heavy breasts The light in your petals keeps changing color as if a shy lady of class lighting up the room with a discrete smile
Sailing in the maroon sea half-mast & a lonesome heart my ambition grows fat with wind while you rising like a white moon invitingly to be my beacon in the shape of love