I lead men
to the edge
of divine abyss.
Wrap them like gifts
for the Gods,
then watch them become
unwrapped.
Melt like sugar
into smooth sweetness;
dissolve in the heat
of my hands.
My siren song
a lullaby.
My honey realm
a shadow dream,
gated;
I hold all the keys.
Waiting
in expectation.
Under luminescent
peach, pink sky,
I pass nights
longing
for you.
My heart flowers.
I am a poet
writing luscious rhymes
for you.
You are my song.
I am lost;
divine.
I taste dark fruit;
cloudy wine.
Desire
for you.
My heart is a
blood diamond;
beautiful,
sad.
I shine
for you,
my lover,
my appraiser.
Trade me
on a black market
of dreams
for untold riches.
Sell my soul
for ether,
vaporize.
I will
breathe you in
like a scent.
Materialize.
You and I
together,
we are
treasure.
My thoughts
of you
light ether
like incense smoke
curling in air.
You can sense
my scent,
of tender geranium;
the flowering
of my majestic
love potion.
I am
velveteen
filigree
encircling
your mind.
Crave me
with your
sweet tooth.
Ravish me
like rose
ice cream.
I stew
like meat and prunes
in the soup
of my longing;
taste the green
astringent leaves
of my heartbreak,
that grow
like fennel bulbs
from my chest,
a flourishing bitter.
I soak,
grind you
into acorn flour,
releasing tannins
of memory,
making this palatable —
my love,
my aching loss.
Perhaps I was
cardamom
in your coffee,
scent of cinnamon
after too long;
spice of life.
Yet for you
I traversed
the Silk Roads,
entered tribal lands,
became lost.
Sacred songs
encircled me,
of wildness
and love,
holy longing.
In this desert,
arid and mysterious,
your lips
are like
water.
Are you an oasis
or mirage?
I cannot tell.
Still, I drink deeply
of you,
subsisting on
memories;
your lingering reflection
in this shimmery well
of dreams.
You left
your shadow.
Here
with me.
A dark impression of you remains,
blackly radiant with your kisses,
your resinous scents
of oudwood and amber.
Haunting enchantment;
fading golden glow;
whiff of fragrant sweet tobacco smoke;
nighttime sadness.
Midnight salt and sweat
of your skin
lingers on my tongue,
tasting of redolent spice.
You are inside me still.
I can feel you,
writhing
in and out,
our souls touching
at the hinges.
Memories of ecstasy, of betrayal;
these rich, royal colors,
all this pleasure and pain,
dark amethyst hues,
held within my glassy heart
like a powder keg.
In the same
dangerous, enticing,
volatile manner
that an enigmatic old bottle
contains a djinn.
