satin gown

its raining
now its snowing

i can feel her in my brain
a scratch waiting for an itch
a broken window pane

if i call to her she will run
shouting catch me till she’s gone
a ghost without a promise
a forest without a fawn

she thinks red makes her sexy
i think that it does too
shes my little rose pedal
a violent colored hue

her color is all gone now
replaced with green and brown
i think she would like being buried in this
her favorite satin gown