Delia of the Metasphere

in 1122 I’ll fall to the ground for you princess O princess of rosemary dew you know it takes two to tango fandango Delia – heartbound; foundling born tired forsaken vixen of dying light a submarine ghost a rose dale long closed infidel lost little girl still admired her royal affairs of turquoise red flew into the newborn on a death bed into the rabbit hole of paranoia that’s chimerical, that’s flamboyant how easy can dreams come to an end it’s noontide of deathless urban decay in a separation station of her heyday Delia’s timorous, cold like iron living the fate of Sharon Tate feeling redundant, Delia is a scarecrow of the nameless river her russet hair like abbatoir cleaver it’s been a folly, infamy, end of me end of a saint, soon-to-be sinner she was the girl that was ill Delia of the lavender hill travelling light year by light year Delia of the metasphere