Tempest

You are stolen; So

You sell your body

To men in gold

All tangled up

That sluggish old word

Or so we thought

For as it is

the world hath turned

Not I

will come to rescue, not I

Neither will your own two senses,

Or whatever linger still

While the rest you do not own

Anymore

When we met

Your mind and your soul

Your eyes, and your frown

Beckoned to me in the street

and spoke to me of your feat

From the night before,

and the night before

You spoke of some 

Bestowed man, who come

At moment's notice, begin to run

Like a Spanish wild-bull;

But you, beaten you

Everything fading from within view

 

Like a tawny tempest

You weep in rooms

Behind doors you know 

Nobody would ever open

Despite your charm

It is all spilling now

Across the beautiful veneer

The cracked seaglass

plaster bowl

The candles, ribbons,

and lace,

All spread so silent across

The bitumen

Quiet, and bright as the day

Was the chatter, as you lay

"You have been kind to me,"

She uttered under breaths

"But now is the time to

Set me free from old youth."

What then of your child?