Queen of the Night

The floor was a pool of tears.

The crimson liquid

of sticky water from my eyes

seeped into the deepest

pigments of my

skin

Dama of His Nights

 

She wakes me, then she vanishes.

But the scent of a thousand other flowers

seems to harmonize to annoy me

as it lingers in the four walls of this room.

 

Dama de Noche

 

The sound of bells

and silent chatter

from each side of the isle

and white petals that spread on

the crimson stretch

Behold:

A fairytale of maharlikas and

village maids.