February 15, 2004

  • succubus


    She came to me last night, again, like a nymph teasing trysts, and said:


    "You have just three wishes, then I must vanish."


    "Just three?" I protested.


    "Just three.  So go ahead."


    And I replied:


    I want to *kiss* to *kiss* to *kiss*
    and writhe with passion in your embrace.
    To *kiss* yet more and pull the cover of bliss
    eclipsingly over the cuddle of us
    so that we may incandesce imperiously in our own tenderness,
    yet appear as no more than a wee far-cast twinkle
    to any gimlet searcher seeking out bursting novas
    as some divine sign of redemptive brilliance.
     
    I want to pulsate as a delving pulsar would
    into your invoking, involving, inescapable imminence.
    As if you were the black hole at the center of my universe
    (even though you are the very light that illuminates angels'
    wings).
     
    *kiss* *kiss* *kiss*  ...  (until the waking reappears
    )

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