White honeysuckle mist strokes my jagged blades

Auburn ochre sprayed with burgundy

Wine stains like bruises on viridian lace sleeves

Caught on violet thorn clouds, shifting beneath my feet

Hot yellow fear seeps into my chilled stone skin

For treason is twisted into my palladium chain

My alizarin bed cured with rusted skeletons

There is no pewter lock to break without a trip to purgatory

Just a sienna road, raw and burnt

And my cobalt bones

Breaking titanium

-y.s.n