An angel.

Hair so scarlet,
like the blood that runs
so quickly through my veins.

You,
so beautiful.

Diana.

I have waited eons
(it seems)
to hear your soft, magical voice.
I always knew you'd come
and I would so gently touch
your
calm pale white flesh.

Your flesh
that is shrouded with black velvet
and silk.

When you speak I am closer to death,
and I would not be surprised
to see you sprout wings.

Beautiful as the clear blue sky

Beautiful as the songs of doves

and Beautiful as the immaculate
moon when it is waning.

Diana my angel.

For you I have waited eons
(it seems)
but I always knew you'd come,
and now I can eternally rest
in my
euphoric grave.

--Vladik Cervantes 1988