Darker Hearts Poem by Patti Masterman

Death chooses grey roses,
Because living lips are lily pink;
In each clever hand, his dagger arcs
The blood falling like broken links.

A tethered breast, a cottoned night;
The devil dreams of good nymphs sleeping.
The outside draws the inside nigh;
Dark beasts, the brass keys quiet are keeping.

In the flowers center, soft fingers enter,
Summer breathing the cloud-juice dry,
And jaded hearts will keep on beating
Though bloody cracks expand the sky.