There were two crescent Moons hanging
caught in the shadow of Venetian eyes
Your dark hair a silken lace shining
cascading down in rolling waves
dappled in the light across the water
Your lips dark and gleaming bright
moist with the hint of a future promise
Your voice sultry in the whispered wind
calling down an old and rabid hunger
born in the times of grief and loss
Holding hands I walked beside you there
on and down Rialto's ancient steps
Coldness rising from the water's heart
and I felt the echo of old old blood
from those cold and well worn stones
On the dark waters beyond Mark's Square
Gondolas like black swans ran the waves
onward to lover's unsure destinies
I grasped and held your tender form
and gazed out toward the islands
I bent to kiss your painted mouth
bright red in a dusted bloom of white
I watched the rapture in your eyes
as your keen teeth brushed my neck
and beyond the world......
my soul was lost
