The First

She walks; an awe of madd'ning affliction,
As fingertips trace the depth of her skin.
Sailing feet trace the ground, a conniption;
Chords strung from her lips a whispering hymn.
She forbids any grasp, her fire still gleam bright.
Vivid eyes dance a spiteful foxtrot,
As day smears a blur, the promise grow tight.
Notes of thy sweet song unravel, the plot.
Desire; speeding the heart and slow the mind
As white bleeds to red, the fire flickers black.
Eyes quiver shut, a moment so blind.
A moment held so dear there is no back.
She entitles a weight made evermore,
The game hath become such a mere bore.

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