my body will love you until my last breath,
my mind will always be occupied with thoughts of you,
my soul will desire you for all of eternity.”
Four vipers later,
“My lioness, the only yin to my yang.”
Frustrated, the evil fowers formed a bouquet
to play Imperial Harem, a game of jeopardy -
Sand pounced upon the Queen Mother’s shell
embossed by her black veins.
“It was her!”
“What a cruel woman!”
“Banish that wench!”
“Sentence her to death!”
A petty eternal love killed by four slithering yellow hyacinths.
She,
who, Sand wept for
who, her fading grandfather condemned and forgave,
after one thousand miles.
A new Monarch of the Skies,
who, hated the Gobi
who, ordered Winter
who, ordered Summer,
so Winter could kill it again
and again.
The tears of Sand moulded into the Khongoryn Els,
which still sing tunes of sorrow,
unable to melt the Biyeglee, the She-Beast.
