Alchemisland

Melody winged, her saintly wicked

I saw last night

Outside my lonely titan thicket

A picture of a shining trident like a sky-done wicket

Melanin-tinged her painted fingertips linger

She sings pain, her baited breath like some movement’s best phrases

Her left snaking down the cliffs of her body, toward the cleft

Her clit is left foam-blessed like the wavehit cliff’s Atlantic aspect

I’d inspect that ass bent

I’d ingest that ass, red

A sense of predatory senselessness about this well bred

I spread across her territories and outposts like news of a king’s death

It is not unusual for us to hear that the king wept

About the castle she crept

Her velvet hem swept

Her verve, the sound of swerving

The sound of sir. The sound of her. I don’t stress the wording

When I compose your body’s odes

I imagined glances stolen, animals frozen, antient stones

Her bones are my discovery park, don’t mean Castlecomer

No is the way to go for most comers

It can come out your nose if you blow beneath the covers

Snow beneath the lovers

Snow will eat the lovers

No retreat until we meet Ohio’s streets, brother.

I’ve been surviving on five a night all this week

And I’m still thriving, striding, time’s worth biding

If the prize’s a worthwhile title, she ogled an idol

She toggled a python, tithed tongue untied, wasn’t frightened either

Snake church, Eden united, taken virtue brown-red the Fall canopy

Above her death-drowning head. Blessing-crowned, heavenled.

I will swim to you to start afresh

My drowned dead flotsam introduce

To whatever paltry beach and stubborn dunes are closest you

I wish for wounds to feel the lampheat of your gifts

I want to feed you, lift your features and pout those lamprey lips

The page is a womb my brooding ink will eclipse.