I watch the water mist itself seamlessly into the sky.
The ferryman drives his cargo across the water
to my c shore.
I espy your spies and I show them kindness as
you cannot
show yourself.
In black velvet with a white silk tie
necked,
I bought the garb earlier today. It smells old.
It smells like the previous owner.
Trading Tigers.
The pink votive, colour of my heraldry,
burns oily shadows into the chilled airs.
The intermingling of the scents tricks my nostrils
into sensing you.
And, the last sip of water from this glass tastes like salt
off the thinnest part of your skin.
It invokes the duality within.
Ariadne and Artemis.
WrittenCasey 