Winters Echo Sweeps Her Off Her Feet

Till Elysium streams of moonlight cometh an angel's translucent kiss tremble I moth-like in her starlit abyss reticent of dawn's precocious sunlight eclipsing her fragile pale haunted lips. I spy her footsteps dancing each-in-each tender tip-toe meetings ghostly impeach our heartbeats whispered wanton dance moonlit fires of quenching dewy romance. But it then engulfs her prelude sleep winters echo sweeps her off her feet as snow and ice-like sister meet it's then-I-omit, a cold defeat. For the curve of her spine is a serpent mine? That I've kissed to the sorrow bone and marrow. Truth in the hope of securing the loosening, moorings of our souls bound-together in her own Dead Sea scrolls.