Now my splender fades
Through secret and discarded veils
Flies my gilded memory
The bright moon, my silver coach
The tide, my hand sweeping in
To the drumbeat of the sacred dance.
Through all these colors
Red, for the blood in life and death
becomes the raiment of sinners.
The gold you spilled
To bury war crimes in perfumed skin
That held the power of absolution

'Untitled' © Andrea Diaz forever. May not be reproduced without permission