Come my pallid mistress, you look lovely in that silver dress. My Love, my dear, how you play the fool. When I press my eyes tightly together, garden flowers never wane under the weight of raindrops. And do you believe I fit any better— spinning as a cog without any open teeth. But come my pallid mistress, you look lovely in that silver dress. My love, my dear, how you play the fool. Crimson columbine may leave honey on my breath, yet her petals are barely a shadow passing through the night. My sweet fool, be still for now— close your eyes and kiss me. O my pallid mistress, you look lovely in that silver dress. -Samantha Derleth