Recent Poems 6

    i hold the beast

through the smoke. the veil.
the beast from the purple fire
i fear she stalks me

through the gilded mirror
she walks towards me
stands behind me.
i looked, reflection,
into her eyes. the eyes.

brown cotton kept me warm
but black satin scarves
flutter from

    the balcony above

around the marble neck
and she led, too weak,
eyes misted, i follow

taunt and tease,

and i'll retreat
a touch, a caress,
and i withdraw

and the green sheen
i see around her
wraps around me, too

the spike pricked
my fingertip. mine
and the green blood dripped

her smile in my cranberry wine
and shake my head no more
a sip, and i host,
the beast i hold.


Back To Poems