In my dream, I am blonde

Sadness spoken of mind is held in the soul.

My own is ancient, blessed by madness,
beheld by a demented wisdom,
and born out of wedlock with the fugitive kind
who love and run.

I am daughter of luna, and as tears fall
from my marmarose eyes, the stars oscillate
in the sky to compose a threnody.

I dance to the winds of fortune, erastis of shadow,
twirling me into the infernos of gypsy revelries.
Stripped to the notorious elegance of shame
I surrender to the lust that paints me artfully unchaste.

(Artwork unknown)