Birthing the Vortex
"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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