Fancy Girl

I saw the moon and the moon saw me
when the night was tardy,
whipping her dragon's spiny tail,
headed through the Bardo.

I used to be a fancy girl
with pretty, curling hair,
in love with every luxury
and lovely thing to wear.

I stepped on hearts tossed in my way
and never heeded how
they wept red juices in the street
under my satin shoe.

But now the tide has turned on me,
my heart is crushed to powder.
I lope as lonely as a loon
where the demons loitre.

For love's a two-way thoroughfare
where travellers come and go.
Don't wear your heart tied to your sleeve
on a velvet bow.