Magic

Can I conjure a real woman of my choice? From the black thirsty dark clouds to melt and rain In her flow and my whim's incredulity Playing each tarot figure to my divine will As I create this sonnet to personify Dark adventures of my mind into rhyme And recall memoirs that plague my desires But I feel lust as we enter this haven Touched by passion and zeal in our earthly love Discover the charm reaching beyond our dual soul Eager to evolve within truthful longing As it grows unhampered: steadily with joy. Black Magic provoking celestial fusion? Nay, for she is the one I adore each day.