Illusion of a Cinnamon Girl..

Bewailing..
her innocence..
The werewolves..
moaned
their brittle octave..
Erratic in despair..

Burgundy waters..
licked
the dinghy
catacombs..
The illusion of her
reeling..
In a whirl..


A pathos
fragrant..
With the minstrels words..
Worn toes
blinking
At her grave..
as
He wavered..
weaving
A song..
from
the frozen letters
on her lips..