Cherry Midnight

Why covered, her rose
never gold, (or love:shadows)
to grace
my eyes. (a brazen speech cowers
on
her lip.)

cold
you tear up nightmares

when the faces scream
red (about this nothingness;
buried on below,

bliss) heaven bleeds
your moon
through you

and the stars taste
dark comfort-
eyes drop rich cherries,
dumbfoundanddie.

but tomorrow whispers
we breathe long enough

to hear goodbyes.