Of Desire and Denial

In spirals woken and knocked back again

Into my reverie where she comes in white

And by the spirit of December cold slain

Within the pallor of knolling flying time.

 

I gloat on her chiselled chin and fair skin

On her radiant shoulders and her softly heaving

Bosom; a reverberating nocturnal din,

Smirking she stood, my countenance peeling.

 

In spirals I lost my way back and forth

To and fro, cursing and weaving my lies

Of my desires’ April gimmick uncouth,

Rode into embellished May, shrouding my eyes.

 

‘O what a fiend is she’, cried my soul,

My heart but knew only to revolt,

My eyes had seen lustrous ancient gold

And my amorous spirit desired to bolt

 

Dark doors and drive out my vitality,

Veil the vestige of uncorrupted thought,

Hold me down and let her on me be

Drown my pride and burn me to soot.

 

Blow my cinders in the malevolent wind

Cavort and shriek my fall, my cold demise

And I rest on her trophy plaque, chagrined

And stared at by ravishing hell bound eyes.

 

So I raised my voice and said, ‘Nay,

No mermaid, no harridan shall ever solicit me

Into her chamber, with me have her way,

And drape me with illusions of the sea,

 

Trap me in a faucet of her fanny will,

Pierce my heart with grisly banal lust,

For my love brings me closer to my quill

And not wither my being into dust.’