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his lovers' gilded torment lay bare in his embracing arms as gold streamed down the lovers' cheeks, skin lathered in honey, draped in russet silk. he bemoaned the absence of a hyacinth in his meadow of blushing dahlias. for beyond the woeful mortals stood fate in all her splendor, clean cut and full lipped, her soulless visage morphed unto a soft beam belied the teeming cynicism. one sinuous arm pointed towards the weeping lover. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ " weep not, for he is no longer a child of dirt and clay, lay him to rest now— and see him away." ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ the far wails of archangels grace their ears, such voices imbued with a tender sense of rue that veiled his heart in rippled dolouur. his still lover, bathed in peerless divinity, naught but an ember of salvation dipped in the reservoir of intangible life.
for he cradled his lovers' head close to his bossom as sweet wine spilled from his dark lips. lifting a lithe hand to caress the lovers' ivory skin. phantom vows of fidelity burned with ardor against his chest.
" beyond dirt and clay, flesh and blood, heart and soul — my love and memories he shall carry with him wherever he may go."
