a dynasty of madmen
kneel at your feet
with the most amorous of intentions
as if they were maltese falcons
ascending to great wealth, glorious!

the beaming smiles of dying men
their vision so clear
their eyes sparkling brilliantly
streaking twilight
drinking in your silhouette
mouths open
hearts open

your entrancing name
tracing the bulbous lips of phantom lovers
who, much to their credit
saw you sprinkling hope
like fairy dust
into cool summer breezes
promising to smile
on the fortunes
of wretched souls
their days fleeting

their dreams reaching
as they dance on silver-lined clouds
waiting for the warm blood
in their sighs to coo you into believing,
as unlikely as it may seem,
that even broken men can dream
invoking your smile
into lighthouses
to navigate the coastlines of love

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others