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The Flowering
Saunter steps. Your clodding makes streets quiver
 Buckling men’s knees with a shy smiling desire
 Your burial headdress hewn from each sliver
 Of cruel starry skin. Your years are a liar,
 Sick child with beauty like religion, seething, towering,
 Burning cities of truth and silks. So anguished my trance,
 Captor captive. I dreaded time’s flowering
 When your petals dripped tears in a horrified dance
 But fear’s flame fades, you sad crawling urchin
 Our crime stole the light from your sealt legs in time
 Shattered dove, you cling above hell, perching
 With its own filth did headdress gilt begrime
 
 Spread, black, broke. Beast at last paired pen to page
 Knowing no beauty, she drew her own cage.

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This article has 2 comments.
 
The idea came after I drew her.