Friday, May 06, 2016

The Dead Calypso

Strange that those lewd lava lips, once so alluring and mocking,

Wear such an innocent smile, chaste as a maiden's in sleep !

Nay, but they wither and change, livid they seem unto blueness,

Shrunk in their soft silken skin, as when the tropical sun

Drinking the life of the grape, leaves it abandoned and shriveled,

Gibbeted on its own vine, swinging like felon forgot.

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