Villanelle

The daemon on the balustrade unfurled,
its tail changed from stone to singéd flesh.
The burning sky and all its painted world

beneath, to this my caught body was hurled
so that I saw the witches in the mesh,
the daemon on the balustrade unfurled

as it returned to perch, and curled.
Before I struck the stake and screamed afresh,
the burning sky and all its painted world

vanished. The flames became a blanket whirled,
no witch encircled with wire to thresh,
the daemon on the balustrade unfurled

simply a trick of angles turned absurd.
But what depravéd thoughts made me horseflesh,
the burning sky and all its painted world

the stove? That place alive, perhaps, when swirled
the leaves outside my warm and fear-less creche,
the daemon on the balustrade unfurled

beyond my infantile, ordered world.
I know that in the flames I'll make a plesh...
the daemon on the balustrade unfurled,
the burning sky, and all its painted world.