Illusion's Favourite Girl

*** Dedicated to my good friend Brianne, who now lives in Mexico, because she's lame. ***

Tasteless attraction
to murder friendship's satisfaction,
dripping from my farewell tongue
like the ravens flying creases of the sun,
I see her in mirrors
that morph fragmented Ways,
And I'll forget these passing days.

Give me back even her rougest smiles
once stitched upon my lips
both itched with heaviness,
but where she walks darkened sands,
I feel no footprints
beneath my blinded hands
(Yes, the eyes of hands, reddened by hate of fate)

Though I still feel old summers
by memories whispering,
and I tasted flowers as real as blood in veins,
and the day I plucked three suns
from the sky blue garden
to hang them on her neck.

Flavoured by the vampyric leeching,
you ... ripped from my eyes,
to fade away on edges of stop signs,
away from here and to illusion,
where a heart can not reach;

And now all these fancied words,
to say nothing but, that I miss you.