Friday, July 31, 2015

Blue Moon

the blue moon from my house last night

It’s the beginning:

a blue moon, blazing.
bright arms striking out
Black. Light, inverted
smoke wafting down
to my skin like ash. Alone,
waiting for the clock to strike
her witching hour.
Is she ready? Flushed, husky,
lust-filled for magic? This
primal drive invades my iris
rings. Binding, finding myself facing
the Dark from within. She sings.

Once, in a blue moon,
this is how it ends.

3 comments:

grapeling said...

sensuous and hypnotic ~

Other Mary said...

What a great response to the blue moon!

thotpurge said...

Enjoyed this poem!