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Intoxicated

Intoxicated by the night's velocity the withers of twilight brings. Like a string on a bobbin of a cello. Darkness is unfettered to reign in your emerald green eyes. With your lips of crimson-red macabre. Rising above a shadow that shades. But it's your flesh that raises my hackles and summons me to your opium sweet chastity. For I must feel your lips dance on my piccolo as the dervishes of the wind blow threads of the dead. Censored with a chalice of immortality swinging over your head. With a scent of glaring.
    

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