sky slips: apollo rises (the lunar orgy continues)

sliding soft &
ascendant
across a smoky void.

the sky is yours.

I lie awake
roused by a tantalizing touch,
stroking
the beast
inside….

and I throw back my neck
and devour
all
of
you.

yes,
I am still yours.

but,
perchance my honeyed words
of lust
and love
have grasped
a wisp
of your
splendiferousness,
and blasphemous vivaciousness.

,

and
for a moment as dear
as a wasp’s hair,

you,
are mine too.

grace-
imagined.

adoration
misplaced

hope-
…….

and now I wonder,

is your serene glow
but
a reflection of my wonder?

have you dreamt of my fire tipped words
dancing across your virgin lips?

blushing,
but for me?

I think so.