Ocean Circe

Ocean (Circe) Clearly an abyss, you paint your lips blue, adorn yourself in light's zirconium-hue- masquerading as some golden gem, laden Queen. Lying in your bed in waiting, offering the possibility of adventure, of hidden world's of retreat. Your magic mesmerizes and flaunts. Teases with possibilities imagery. Endless font. Stories to sell. Corrupting your fools, licking your taunts upon their feet. Mermaids minions in seductions reflection so demure. Reflecting the sky with their tails. You are a sourceress, a prostitute and a street, storefront sign purely forged in a spell. A true window to your soul and it's keep, that rolls like a dungeon on the back of a Great turtle. That of a corrupting changeling, unpurely-changing with every phase shift of swell. Your great alchemy is fusing illusion with serenity's false sleep. With your ambitions that run silent, and run deep amongst that subsiding pillow. Your platform for your maelstrom of sinking- through Azurine- dreams. Your quicksilver beads above the morpheant sands that flows so easily, like the lies that lie beyond men's reach.