Far Far Cry

She sheds venom in
canopy clouds cleasing her
gypsy moon in silent strip tease .

Her ancient diary, a hand traced
signature , littered with
poetized treasures of
innocent hopes , now brushed
in black blotted jet trails .

Shadows of teared myst
temper burning scribbles
as ripped pages falling
from bruised cheeks
fade into
ambrosia rainbows.
Her remains , a sky-riders
ghostly reminder
 painted in clouds
of muted skies.