The Bride, The White Bride Today A

I Want To Be A Poet, From Head To Toe, Living And Dying By Poetry.

The Night Below. We Two. Crystal Of Pain. You Wept Over Great Distances. My Ache Was A Clutch Of Agonies Over Your Sickly Heart Of Sand.

The Groom Is Like A Flower Of Gold. When He Walks, Blossoms At His Feet Unfold.

Moon Like A Large Stainedglass Window That Breaks On The Ocean.

Love Is The Kiss In The Quiet Nest While The Leaves Are Trembling, Mirrored In The Water.