Black Holes And Magic Portals

There was something about thinking about black holes and
magic portals that made her wet and wanting to be full filled ;


The nether sweat of her chthonic cavern had aromatic moments

of damp earth and turkish roses , making her think of ancient gardens in

Babylon where lovers awaited with spiced wine and gifts of golden bangles

and silver bells ;


Three kings would do ,  she thought , on the whim of some fantasy

as the high priestess of dream imagining what that could lead to

and the out cum of their devotion poured out like fine oil or milk

bath on her skin ;


She sometimes could not get her mind out of the gutter

even when she walked the streets , owning them like a queen

and goddess of her world , wanting merely to indulge herself

in some decadent dessert other than vanilla ;


She binged on heavy whipped cream like a knowing lynx spread on her

leopard couch , flavored with brandy and topped with cherries ;


Her sweet tooth was satiated by sensuality and red licorice whips ;

Her darkside was soothed by chocolate in the middle of the night...


For what is this journey to her center , through layers of decadence
and bliss , a soulbreaker ball with a hardshell created by the layers
of experience as accretion ?

She wanted the universe to call her back with an answer , so she left
her number , though so many told her they had it already ;

She could not number them on two hands , as it would take more than
a ten armed goddess , and she might be getting close , perhaps too close
for comfort , when she thought what that meant in her interpersonal
relationships ;

All she wanted was the one , until she changed her mind , like an old
outfit and chose the many instead ;

She kept trying to make up with her mind but it always screwed her , or
she screwed it , like some carpenter framing her house of reality , with
fun house mirrors included ;

Sometimes when she was horny , she just wanted a plumber to fix the leak ;

But they always charged cum union wages