© 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
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