Lamia
So often now, as I lie sleeping
She calls to me, sweet sister, weeping
For a lover’s love.
And I, a suckling babe,
Am roused from rest
To suck upon her rosebud nippled breast.
To feast upon her honey-melon breast.
So often, on the moonlit air
She comes to me, Lamia fair.
Her lips’ red wine
Pour over mine
And I caress her scented hair.
Press wide the crimson blood plum bloom
Press wide the warm and soft-walled bloom.
So often in your guise, sweet sister,
Comes this vision, that I’ve kissed her
Nightly in your stead.
But come the dawn the lady flees
Carried on the morning breeze
And I discover in distress
That errant dreams have been my mistress.
Copyright © Barry Freeman | Year Posted 2021
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