deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Dance
Wispy shadows, they prey on me—
Come to me in the night.
Ethereal, it's sleep they steal
In the absence of light.
Under the door, across the floor,
Taking form next the bed...
Like smoke tendrils, they work their wills
Slowly into my head(s).
It's female supremacy,
I know what I am fighting.
Yet fail to clutch just how that touch
Comes to me so inviting.
Hot breath on neck, I know what's next,
And hear each voice claim, "Mine!"
All while a shrill quiver of chill
Trickles slow down the spine.
Witchly shadows entwined, a set
Of love and lust and need.
A strange bouquet, dying to play
With one equal the deed.
Yes, wills will bend, ashes will blend
On need, so pure and stark.
The dead on hand, to watch me stand
On whispers in the dark.
Arrive together, tempt alone,
Neither wishing to share.
By God I see, how could this be?
They don't see the other's there.
Lust from a friend, a lover's end,
Oh, I'll not taste those fires.
But grant her time on the winds chime
To burn in her desires.
A deviant's delight maybe,
For me it seethes of wrong.
Seeking control, to claim my soul...
With their alluring song.
I realize, deemed-fair, this prize
May never reach the dawn..
Yet stake my chance, and dare this dance
To light what shadow's drawn.
8/18/15
Published 27th Dec 2015
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