The man that looked at the purple sky.
And not the purple prince combs his hands around the girl
The girl shivers and desperately hugs at his crimson eyes that
Look towards the sky.
She wants him to smile
For his lips to part and breathe
Breathe all over her
But he lets his air filter onto windows while he watches the world go by.
And looks towards the sky.
She wants him to stare at her
But she knows if this happened her shivers would be too much
And she would be trapped like she was before.
Under the electric cellophane.
So instead she watches him. Stares at him
But even at this she hears the cellophane creep behind her back
The electricity pouring over her like a desert bath. Necessary, cleansing.
But too hot.
So. no staring. No watching
Too dangerous as he saunters and blows down her throat whisky kisses.
A black panther in red cords.
Blocked off senses aren’t enough
He’s a musician. Chords are his poison and her ears cannot be filled.
She goes to an apothecary in order to drink up, drink down, drink through
She cannot be alive while the panther roams.
It would be a life to good.
To good
To good
on the edge of insanity.
The poison touches her bosoms and she is eaten up
In her last moments she hears his music
her body shivers for the last time.
Dancing to his rhythm on a purple cloud.