Melanie of the morning
Sailed by my parapet
She says, “there’s no use in mourning
When the world is your puppet”

Won’t you come through my window?
For my legs feel frail
She says, “just moan like a minnow
And I’ll be in your mail”

And what a lovely day it is
Flowers taped onto a sign
When the sky is an orange wisp
I’ll be by your side

Oh, I long for her
Searing, fading hair
Still-flowing, spotlight fur
Delouse my glare

I spun around in my chair
Until the white walls caved
I’m ready for her stare
To hold me inside a grave

Soon, the bottom of my ship
Will hold gilded fleece
To keep her warm for a trip
Can a sailor only love the sea?

Melanie, Melanie will come to me

It’s a miserable truth
To know everything is borne
On the mind’s river
Inert pictures, sterile frames
Loveless leaves, idle mountains
The beauty is the eye
And if the eye holds no lustre
The soul will wither
In place of the mind
Which birthed it all the same
In a one-sided frame

Here, behold me
What say you?
Here, you fold me
Teared and true

Herald of the sacred keep
Thunder in his gilded hand
Stirring all the souls who weep
Into realms of floating sand

My shoulders are so heavy
With overarching pain
All gone, far gone
Carnivorous memory
Bronze chandeliers in the old home
Foreign tea with the circus Baron
Seething with forgotten blood
Strained from anemic bones

I must learn happiness
Lest she leave me
To mine own devices
Which have decayed in woe

Before too long,
Youth learns vanity
And learns to belong
In shallow capacity