Over the long...

Over the long, under the soft, through
The primal threads a yarn entirely of gold,
Cloying as speech, stitches my love,
Stilted, though tough, worn beautifully
And sadly as a cracked out tomb,
Where pale shades ride by the midnight
Blazes, blowing down from an ocean
On high, turbid mists for a lust misplaced
From eternal rays.