A silky sin falling from those soft hands
Fingertips only known to me and your touch
Feels like they are not there and long forgotten
Those wandering the dark and dreary deserts
Alone again and sinking towards a sad sonnet
A fine tragedy will await you when you see
A young girl standing in the mirror mournfully
Singing her virgin’s lullaby and licking her lips
Tears streaming down her back in bliss and blood
I will only see you when I believe in a truthful lie
Already in the mourning of this fine evening’s eye
I saw your beautiful face and all was well
Finished at 7: 16 p.m
1/19/08
Molly Ravensdale
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/roses-in-the-mourning/
