Wasteland

Ginger toes  
Warm, barren lands
Lain waste without sun
Dead Sea of hearts 
Fresh blackened sands
Fortified desert of bones Burn
Underfoot while lousy lovers' ashes
Turn to butter in my throat
Whisper. Whisper to the clock
Beg the hands my return
So that Embrace might consume
My love and make me see
Porcelain tears fall on bedrock 
Crushed between my toes
Step... Another step...
Indigo Dreams 
Swept with gold intent
My spoils
A dimpled Grin & reckless regard 
Longing for more
Perhaps too much
Perhaps... not enough