Assha...aer..aesh...
A calm face, translucent, not bound by flesh.
On a fork-like path she doesn't hide,
Unbothered is she by calm mounds with crosses in the park,
But floats in gusts like a windy tide,
On forest outskirts — where two words collide.
Asshee...aheei..aaeh...
She seeks no wines, rum or sweet smoke,
Asking no written praise from men,
But counts the coins lost by a thin hand—
A raging yell of heart which troubles choke.
Asshh...aeei..ash...
A calming presence, watchful, fleeting through flesh.
She weaves a carcass out of wind and vine,
To hold the broken trees along the crushed spine.
That presence tastes all that you taste,
Whatever you touch, you both at once have touched—
Of those she tangled — none are ever left trashed.
Assha...aer..aesh...
A calm face, translucent, not bound by flesh.
An eerie gaze which judges each of your steps,
A gust of dark humour that pranks but helps.
Fear that moment when she finally speaks—
That will be time to pass behind the mortality veils,
As a new one of her fleeting kind...
