© January 16, 2014 by Swami X

Her eyes widen just a touch

As if to let in more of his light

Which she hopes can fill

The dark spot inside her dungeon

that is seeking exposure

She believes he can ignite her spark

from its imprisonment

But maybe all he knows

Is how to snuff it out

The corners of her mouth rise

Imperceptibly

Holding back a flooding toothy smile

Banging at the gate

Is it his words that threaten to penetrate

her defenses

Or a traitor within her own castle?

His voice swirls in her head

Like an imperial orchestra

With repeated crescendo and decrescendo

Rising and falling

Like two young lovers

On their honeymoon

Is it his tone that is the cherub

Dressed in satin and silk and silver

Sovereign sound sonorously sliding like a sultry sonnet?

Or is her mind

the maestro who sits at the harp?

The hot flush covers her skin

Spreading like wildfire

Turning her whole body

Hot and tingly

And yet from a distance

Bridged only through fiber optics

It is not possible

for the smell of his musky sweat

the unscented fragrance of his pheromones

To climb the barrier

that separates him from this Rapunzel

and free the soul that is held captive

behind a skin barrier

So the fire starter must be hiding

Inside of her walls

 

And will this excitement she feels last a fortnight

Or will he open his mouth

And with the truth

of who he is

Shatter the hollow-graphic image

She has projected onto him?

 

 

With a word wielded like a weapon

Icy water fill her veins

And her recently red dermis

Turns this princess pale

The corners of her mouth

Lower like a drawbridge

The harp strings snap

And the musicality of her mind

Loses its conductor

 

And now her darkened little spot

Which was encapsulated in an icicle of fear

And was beginning to melt

the tip-tap of its drops

a heartbeat of hope

Is frosting once again

This time into an iceberg

That not even a Titanic love

Can avoid crashing into

…..and sinking

 

She wanted him a knight

So she dressed a jester

In a suit of armor

And was disappointed

When he didn’t want to slay dragons

just dance his silly steps

and tell his jaunty jokes

which is all he knew to do

 

And is there really a difference

Between regal and regular

Or is royal blood delineated in the minds of men

Who costume their characters in rags

and see riches

Create castles of sand

and breathe their desires into them

Making kingdoms come to life

…from their imagination