If jet black hair was the sign of sorcery, she would be the Witch Queen
When stares turn others into stone, her glance rips your world apart
A singular gesture of her smile emotes a thousand whispers in my head lasting weeks.
Leaning in for the kiss was no different than moving in for the kill.
But what good is mystery if you see the reveal
The moving horizon envies her
Even though she walked into my world, she crash landed in my heart.
Poisoned my lungs sneaking in like a mist
Then disappearing like a fast sunrise
The wind along my neck reminds of her jet black hair as she slept.
Echos of those whispers play around like butterflies in my ears
while I stare my world in a debacle
Yet all I want is a kiss.
Mystery woman, mystery love, mystery torment.
Licking my wounds waiting for the next coming
A love I may never have
Yet I have it so great.
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