HER FACE A WORK OF FICTION

A baby tear,
Dropped in an ocean of loud whispers,
The rib to whom i leaned on,
Washed by thoughts fashioned by cracking crowns,
From memory ego fades,
Drawn to dawn-less dusk,
Her face a work of fiction,

Bound by the allure,
I sympathize with i,
For the serpent lays her eggs in beauty,
Her fangs clout in twinkling eyes,
Her face a work of fiction,

I retire to the skies,
To the comfort of ink,
As i muse on the thick wonders of her face,
I cease to think,
For all awhile,
Her face a work of fiction,
The lie that betrays most men