Casarah Nance Biography

Ride the railway, passing the water tower,
Painted production high like a sun flower.
Howls of the engine, hooting as an owl in the night.
Buildings are the trees that come into sight.
...

Dark, my heart, that makes chocolate jealous
And I so sweet, sugar refuses to melt.
Red, my blood, that makes cut roses cuss,
And I pierce my skin a welcomed welt.
...

Had my heart not shattered into stainless steel shards,
I would have never been severed by a deck of playing cards.
Dealing with the black and red death of fifty two faces,
Shuffling wax coated cards looking for the bloody aces.
...

A harsh sun slipped on whites of skin.
Touched embrace unfolding soft sin.
My eyes open as shutter closed.
Undress my soul, I pose exposed.
...