Your cheeks are spent diminuendos
Sheering into the rose-veiled silence of your lips.
Your eyes are gossamer coquettes
Ringed with the sparkling breath of dead loves.
Your body strays into lanterns of form
Strewing the night within this room. . . .
The light dies; you are still
And spill the frolicing night of your heart
Over the darkness about you, making it pale.
