mae song

she forgot of fashion

and it seemed
that his beard now made sense
once she heard the pan pipes
beyond the big bottem beats of the dancefloor
and noticed that not once
had his hooves
grazed her delicate toes
as they ravenously sculpted space
with their inner rhythms
and seductive appendages

the lack of a fragrant disguise
that her polished entourage sneered at
paved a path to a primal memory
that Mr. Anton Mesmer only scratched the surface of

her defense of expectation
and peer pressured plastic glamoury
was pierced by his commitment to ritual
and she accidentally forgot
who she thought she was
and realized that she
had summoned him

she felt that her own magnetic tides
orchestrated his oceans
and knew that if she arched her back
and let him in
then stars would be born
suspended
in that ecstasy