Dark velvet dress,
Jet black like that of a summer night,
Skin, as gold as egypts desert,
Rich in fragrance,
A lady draped in her essence,
Jewels adorning her silk skin,
She, with olives as eyes,
Deep and radiating,
A rose for lips, red and in contours,
Feet braced in bells,
Grounding her with the earths energy,
Mind not present, on loan by the spirits,
Soul of a lone wolf,
but a fighter nonetheless,
In heat, I become my truest self,
I bask in a different way,
As if I was born again,
But when the cold comes,
It steals the life out of me,
Snatches it right out of my chest,
This climate does not match me.
I want to dance the sorrows out of my skin,
Make a performance that is unforgettable to the one that gazes,
but I wish to forget
Is death the only place for peace?
And if not now,
when will my body stop fighting itself?