Dew Turns to Frost

She bathes in pure sensuality; engulfed whole the existance of her past, future and present. Waltzing across the scene as she would carress the dainty paws on the earths floor.The lithe fingers of the jackfrosts making wrap there skeletal fingers around the flaming bodice as if to freeze her into nothing more then a statue or wrath. It was cold but not the ice age. Lost in her own thoughts she wasnt aware of the precense of others until it was to late. Some could say she was the cause of the sins, others say she is the sin. The pelts cursed with the originality of the deepest of russets, the blood bath of the innocent. As if a flame would hit the woman out into the wide open, singling out the admiring beauty. Staying away from the figures the woman would point the small tiara up to the sky; letting loose a long mornful howl, yet it were beautiful. Secrets can be many things. Perhaps Siobhan is a secret. A secret of the past. The scent of waxy rose petals lingered in the bitter air, to trap and traumatise those who dare to bare. From afar she is the innocence from up close shes the devils daughter.


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