On silken blades
In rays of bronze and golden bathed
The scent of Aspen dangles
From the overhangs
As spring pretends
It never came
The storms will paint
Ephemeral colossus shapes
When dipped into the dying
Blood of sunlit rays
And we pretend
We’re vapor made
To float away
Into electric galaxies
Accessorized with densely
Clinging memories
And we pretend
It’s fantasy
vampireweather 