Tulip blood red lips
through gothic eyes
stares soft and tender soul.
Like a rose petal touch
it breathes beauty in your vibe.
Speak to us of when to now,
of cocooned threads of others web,
wise beyond your years and yet
Thankfully young in heart and truth,
free to shoot the breeze in travel.
Wanting more than what is given
Wounded heart no longer seen but hidden.
Private for only eyes that care.
Snorting, stamping, calling,
Poem for a Woman 25 yrs