Inky-la-reve

When other loves have died and are long gone To heaven, the eye in the hurricane spent In dim ballrooms dance to clarinet thin ghosts, old friends, names set on white tombs, polished stone When my solitude is pressing, roars in woven black, with velvet claws I wrap the clotted darkness 'round gilt body, falling crockery the sound of my cruel tongue Butchery I am, sedated by your lips, seeking my heart, it's string grips a devastated soul or is that too cut out and flung aside, gathering in glut with conscience, useless Anger I am, passion forged from ice splinters, boy of glassy vice jealousy and obsession held out to you by