Beloved Femme Fatale

“Beloved Femme Fatale” Musk and Neroli satin skin spoons Naked feet ‘neath The Pillars of Petra She towers majestic above you, colours your grey skies You are worshipping her on your knees What does it matter, anymore? Before your eyes, the story unfolds . . . Such supplication suits the silence in her movement’s music, There is a symphony in her slender fingers. She reveals to you her story, simple, as they speak in hushed signs That softly tease the air, not you. Like harp strings, She plucks your heart, discards your thorny disguise. Lapis Lazuli dripping her irridescent Blues Between her breasts, around her knees, Smokey Green Aventurine her windows Belie her different dimension’s aventurescence. Mirror quartz bedazzled scrying, what is this phenomenon? You dream you are in her eyes, you now see yourself Some other soothsayer soul gone Eagle Condor wild - Like a Magi Djinn you are, soaring high, in her eyes you are flying. Then, there you lie, in the reflection of her twin iris fires, you've alighted both feet on ground, though you know you are no longer sound. She’s a Lost City somewhere, Buried underneath the dry desert sandstorms Of your mind. Mysterious, dark and hidden, she waits to be discovered And all her treasures, your five senses lay bare, so naked Plundered, while she lies conquered splayed and love drugged on her throne - You find you are no longer speaking to an empty chair. Your coal warm hands part the flaming fan of jet and there, Just there, you know where you witness her distant smile She is nowhere near you yet, She is dreaming in Ancient Sanskrit… She is casting her runes. She opens the floodgate to the Secret Place, all in good time, where Ruins of passion, ripe succulent Pomegranate dusted in Palm Sugar Her fruits are all lying open and waiting to be tasted this is her Temple of Subjugation. Her kisses, deep raw Vanilla and soft essence of Blood Red Persian Roses Crushed Velvet petals lie at the heart of her heated Shrine Now blooming swollen exotic violet Higher and higher she climbs. You’re genuflecting She worships your Sun rising Where she lies in her Moonlit valley Running milky Rivers of Pearls. A dusty blind sweet passage she transforms Echoing epiphanies of escalating ecstasies Au tres Sauvage, never sublime, Opalescent orbs swelling Two Moons of The Goddess In twin reflective mirrors now feverishly shine. She sings poems of Love in her sweet distress. No destruction, no pain in this hidden city now fully undressed, She transmutes from Woman into the Girl of her youth, again You lay your crown in her beseeching arms While you trust her magic and bid farewell to peace, rest and all things sane. For you see, you’ve now entered her Kingdom, she resides on another elusive otherworldly plane. An Ocean is rising The Gift is delivered, delicious and dripping. She is High Priestess In the midst of your dreaming, you’re over the edge euphorically tripping. You are the sacrificial offering and you go gladly Lick the salt, pay your alms, you drink her up Drunk on her julip you wanted so badly. Your ship is rocking You have been cast in a spell You dance in her storm, you think by now, you know her so very well. You're Odysseus' charms break Circe’s gold chains, you think you have broken the spell that unlocks who she truly is, you connect - She’s The Electric Storm come to defibrillate your waning, lacklustre Tempest. She is wrecked on the Shores of Femme Violent, behind her the Woods of Lost Love. Calm waters you float towards her necromancy A single silver silent Gondola sluicing Venetian Canal, you and your mortal sorcery. What harm to again approach this Rasputin Romance, You are Royal Romanov come back from the dead for last dance. Her smile is low and bewitching She calls only to you her Siren call, you can tell. In the World of The Dreaming You reach her Pillars of Petra, Your Long Lost City Your Beloved Femme Fatale (Lovejoy-Burton/March 2018)