Master of the Moon
L o v e and you, the f a d i n g
phase of lunar wings,
spectral silver ~
floating in the deep, dark abyss
of the obsidian skyline,
refracting reveries of a redolent realm,
slipping and curling
through opalescent glass ~
like a window unfolding
truth veiled in twinkling twirls,
powdered with pearl dust
on the hidden face of you ~
between curved lines,
around lips of lament,
like Selene sailing
through sanguine ripples
on a sparkling chariot adorned
with citrine embers,
laced with fluorescent flames.
I dare you to trace the footprints
of forgotten words...
And when the dusk falls
upon your trembling silhouette,
the moon reminds you
of scribbled solitude ~
etched within emptiness,
echoing aching blankness,
with no question nor answer,
no one to scream at you,
no wind to wrap you in warmth,
no colors to cradle coldness,
no stars to sew the silence,
no chorus to soften the pain ~
swirl back to the crescent hammock
emanating glistening gold.
O heartbeat of the hummingbird,
lost in the feathered horizon,
turn around and taste
the temptations of twilight.
Let your soul kiss
fervent fingertips of the sun ~
you are the master of the moon,
the artist of the acrylic air,
the weaver of fragrant dawns
before the seething storms;
the dreamer ~ carving compassion
with hazel haze.
We, the immutable poets,
plead in stillness, in need
of your awakened conscience
to shape you, to make you ~
and return you to the unbreakable,
as you rise
like a dragon’s pulse
detached from the heinous heat
of the megalomaniac sun.
For you will never
forge my breathless mind
to dwell in eclipsed darkness,
shackled by soulless shadows.
I am the master
and the mistress,
the queen of quiescence,
crowned in mystical musings,
enthroned amongst
thunderstruck galaxies ~
like a slave of the heaven
who fears not the unknown
but rules the moon and cosmos
forever engrossed in
the esoteric eyes of
the celestial magic ~
u n t o u c h a b l e and u n m o v a b l e...
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Ink Empress
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