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Eyes are fixed upon another dream, With features beyond belief, Like a scarlet witch, Who, Upon greater detail, Becomes a haunting shade, Teasing with the immaterial, Whilst a reality screams to be seen, For a curse is at play here, As no lenses can be found, Fixed upon the eyes of the dreamer immortal.
Of smoke, Which curdles in the light, And mirrors, Who shatter should I look away, Nothing of the Earth Can whip me to a deeper frenzy As your eyes of black, Which ignite with wordless desire My heart that cannot fail, To crave to love, Your form; Metaphysical - a manifested dream, That cradles me… Continue reading Succubi Bride
There are moments in time When the sun pauses, to bid farewell, On perfect midsummer nights, As cool hawthorn begs me to stay, For just a while longer, and you. Months and years will pass, And all shall return to me; Memories - pollen scented, Of a time when the stars were clear, But… Continue reading The Dream That Almost Was
Red velvet Midsummer nights Your body, and my own. Lips are real When form is not; The weight of a soul, with pleasure I drown. Memories of things greater Rival Ivy in green, As you poison my heart, my voice taken. The moment; condensed, To ambrosia; an opus, Where one final breath in parting, leaves… Continue reading In Secret Love
