Alchemisland

Half sable that hemisphere

Quaking at my taking leer

Tell me why every time

I need to hear it, I’m a Lear.

That half turned away dark. Balletic insatiable.

Stark madness, Cain marks, magnetic Hades

Deranged capable, I will find the way

I will prod the dirt and wrench the cable

I am replaced; the dying place of furtiveness.

Her body’s vast vista; a dearth of curtains

Allows certain beauty to cloud a passing visitor.

Every warmth revisits me; her stormeyes my divine liberty

She’s owl quizzical and howls when we’re physical

Her shroud of shyness smuggles a proud inquisitor.

Her wine is deliberate, poured liberally, colour of liver.

A fading day, at play in chainmail.

I stoop, my neck cracks as I inhale her strange, alien wisteria.

Bronzing splashes the bathing flames painted her frame-craving

Callipygous posterior.