perfect storm

from the forest deep she came like one jaguar gently prowling drawn there by my late-day flame typhoon in the distance howling black hair with a coal-blue sheen eyes like ink that shimmered golden linen sun dress white and clean tawdry tan with charms embolden white-cap sea foam licked the sun softly tasted sweet its brightness melting ‘pon that briny tongue sav'ring still the fading lightness there beside those aqua oceans palm fronds laid beneath the moon with sublime and torrid motions we let loose our fleshed typhoon high above the Perseids streaming wept those skies bright tears of fire wishes granted - we thus dreaming meant for fools to quite inspire flightless angel birthed of darkness wrapped me with her pinions warm sacred embers - cold and sparkless lost within that summer’s form ... lost in her - my perfect storm. * did you notice the change in metre? *