Raising faint memories of a red-faced autumn moon
But at dawn when summer slips to her maiden home
On gushing jasmine wind and on oceans' night foam
I worship her in temple domes, trembling forest nooks
Chocolate twirls in coffee cups; yellowed pages of beloved books
Straddling bitter-sweet bridges of a random rendezvous,
Silence is a busy old friend out on errands with you
Other days, her devious pits fall deeper than beyond
Thunderstorms, crocodile farms, vestigial prickled bond
Dark skinned despair, deep valleys, vampire-inn secrets
Treacherous murderer of light, keeper of weakness
And at times, a needle to darn old tears in lengthy evening shadows
Holding up daily deaths of a distant sun to see how that yarn flows
No forlorn maiden this silence, that kisses your perfumed breasts
In her do all memories live, all wounds fill and all life rests
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