the leaves curl from winters breath
steam lifts from my tongue as a dragon spits flame
wafting its life in a spiritual prism
colours break forming oblique rifts in time
touch me soft as a fingers trace skin leaving red welts
teeth scar searing flesh imbibed by laughters reason
listening to the inner ramblings gather
seek the back of my hand for warmth and comfort
solitude dripped black and worn as a crest
placating remembrance and wishes of gold and silver
yet I dream of eleven sins in times of loss as I waiver
still wearing this skin marked in ink I smell frangipani on the air
want from this is nearly a life of nothing
from the tip of a finger I taste blood mixed with cocaine
bland is the mix of yesterday and tomorrow
still wearing this same skin marked in time I smell sorrow
© 2014 Adrian AIDZ Giannini
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