delicati redux

So pale, so frail, so vulnerable to the cruel whim
of the world and to unworthy lovers, liars and thieves
who would steal your heart to wear as ornament, trim
on the mottled cloaks they wear to mark their station, sleeves
worn and stained like their souls, as broke as fallen glass, grim
and unsuitable to hold the barest trace of the nectar that is your
tender passion.  That I would gladly trade blood and words for.


William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.