Fusion Girl
when the pale rider passed his wild ricochet, before her eyes
succumbed to molten glaze,
did she hypnotically fix upon the flaming hell that followed with him,
a galaxy of carpet fire swallowing her gaze?
running, nude, from the reptilian clutches of some
spent lovers' second advance,
flushed with the faint vermilion glow of the fresh receipt of sex,
the nuclear power of a thousand suns eclipsing her trance.
or a dance, fossilized mid-writhe and thrust, enshrined
this meteoric tomb of stone,
seared shut and sealed in eternity's cocoon,
enduring the silence of centuries alone.
if only I could reach to kiss your cold lips, and you could
orgasmically gasp to tell
if eternal youth in the ashen thrall of volcanic death
was your idea of heaven...or hell.
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