Why won't you let me in? Take down your walls. Let slip the hurricanes, smell the divine breeze. Look at my questioning eyes, meet my coral lips. Find me here, on the border of the ocean, the epitome of blue. Holding me down, me, your long lost Ondine. I love November's flakes, vulnerable and bold. I love the months of hardpack topped with powder. Spring will reveal the rot beneath, leaves branches, bodies. But for now, I savor the snow, the epitome of purity, hiding the remnants of a deadly autumn. The stars are her best friends, shining oh so bright, twinkling for her delight. The epitome of perfection, her night sky, where her mind wanders and flies. Oh so high, this is where her wishes are made and her dreams come true. Homeless, strung out junkie, the epitome of need. Overlooked, overstepped, overclocked, on speed. Criminality or illness, the rich man makes the rules. Either way, he rakes in cash, cause he's nobody's fool. Poor little addict, just a money maker's tool. The epitome of grace, flowing as she walk. Roaming the edge of the forest, not aware being stalked. Beauty pure, her dress of white. On the hunt, wolves howl in the night. The supreme collective cast spells in the dark. Nipping at her skin, with growls and barks. The epitome of all that is good in this cold hearted crumbling world. That snarls and bites at every hand. Where wolves put on the fleece of lambs and hide their teeth behind wide smiles. While evil dwells within their hearts and the devil approves all their plans. He wants to be the epitome of my happiness, the best and finest lover like there was no other. A true lady I want to be, the mystic siren of dreams. To fill his heart and mind, so he never saw another. I let her stay; She is the epitome of survival on a March day in New hampshire. There is nothing for her to hunt accept maybe tiny mites in the wood box, on the floor. Or is it crazy hope which keeps her alive, as it does me, her roommate? My torn t-shirt, epitome of everything you did to me. A sallow adumbration of your crimes, that set me free. We made so many promises of how it was to be. Yet all our oaths lie ruined, and do we eventually.