04-15-2016, 09:59 PM
Furies
She is silken
but will not collapse
should my curious fingers broach the web.
Tonight she’s shattered shards of glass;
more keen to bend light
than draw blood.
But still my will is quarantined,
its fury false fire
to seraphs made of straw.
Another breath might fan the flame.
Let me take it away.
She is silken
but will not collapse
should my curious fingers broach the web.
Tonight she’s shattered shards of glass;
more keen to bend light
than draw blood.
But still my will is quarantined,
its fury false fire
to seraphs made of straw.
Another breath might fan the flame.
Let me take it away.