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"Birthing the Vortex"



the complexities of a myth
borne from the birth 
of amorphous seat 
in dark matter brain

storming dimensions never seen
merely guessed, intuitive, unblessed
visage of a lost majesty
she’s returning to true self 

all wrapped up in the 5th
gossamer hidden 
in the strong arms 
of a dream

satin legs tangled
against a burning 
show and tell 
fevered and ravenous 

gentle hands
running like a ghost 
tempting to tame and possess
its rapturous coquettish host

parting the shadows 
between firm sentinels 
pale limbs suspended 
instinct beckoning 

the prey now huntress
turns to answer the hardened
all his rosy open prayers
see the sharpness in his 
ambivalent frosty pools disappear

she is a softening 
bridge stretching and reaching
along ornery slippery pathway
arching up now 
towards his fiery inner kingdom

a wild thing 
amidst the dark velvet tendrils 
walking his words down
between the running legs 
of a tall story 

where rustle the greenest leaves
turning russet towards 
the season before Winter 
approaching kismet 
through all her lying mirrors

dreams all dripping wet 
towards that place buried in the back 
of blue sky’s grey stormy matter
where the demon’s will 
works its way into her

intuitive now 
escapes through sensate

towards an exit back inwards
then on through his eyes 
inviting her in like 
welcoming open gates
she steps into his mind

a heart beating in time
she conjures the demon to smile
hands clasped, the fingers of two
imprisoned minds 
now freely intertwined 

incorporeal phantoms
steamy coupling butterflies
they are riddled gods
banished to freedom
kept warm-skinned and breathing

in the forest hidden
where light through 
darkness shines
the door now slowly closing 
they are captured 

in a passionate love crime
lips slowly opening
to kiss all those secrets
tongues buried deep 
where the velvet vortex lies

waves overcome 
the sweet drowning
there truth lies splayed wide
open on an alter 
worthy of destitute sacrifice

the key offered and glistening,
played sensually
in the time of hot whispers 
against cool skin 
now the ice is melting 

in the blushed burning
she is caressed 
like the curves of a 
Guarneri Violin Vieuxtemps
jade swims in the ocean 
that is blue sky

a gift of love to 
the Incubus
the birthing of a vortex 
dismantled
defrocked 

heaven thought lost
discovered through dark dream
within her majesty exists
and in that place
a much bluer blue 

bigger sky
begins



(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
2.8.2020






“There are two ways to reach me;
 by way of kisses or by way of imagination.
 But there is a hierarchy; 
the kisses alone don't work.” 
Anais Nin. 


“Be still when you have nothing to say; 
when genuine passion moves you, 
say what you've got to say, 
and say it hot.” 
D.H. Lawrence


"But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momentarily was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermittent burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail..."
Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
"Kubla Khan"
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