I wrote this for someone a few seasons ago...
...I never met her but I know we would have been happy.

you and i once lay upon white roses..
..now stained by this river of red wine
we would watch stars waltz in the night..
..until dawn gave birth to her sunrise.

we cradled our porcelain moon..
..and let her whisper against the tide..
as she bled milk upon our lips
..when her heart cracked from inside.

we...

Count Marzipan

It occured to me the other day that moments in our lives that are personal to us may never be known and eventually fade away. Who will ever know the feelings I felt as I got mildly aroused as i lay in the dandelion patch down by the river? Possibly my first sexual awakening? Who will ever know how I felt when I discovered my Great Aunt Bartleby had a wooden leg and was a chestnut hoarder? Who will ever know of my bemusement when my cousin Oscar wore a crown of ivy for a day and demanded he be given...

Count Marzipan