Tag Archives: obssesion

The Last Binding

She was barefoot and in a velvet dress,

and we left our footprints in the wet sand

as we walked down the beach.

She had kissed me once, years ago, here,

but that moment of affection was long gone,

and now she had the ways of death to teach.

The sea was dark and tempestuous, like her,

like the dreams of her I had every night, going under,

to the waters that birthed her from a spell.

The silver blade was in her hand, she cut my belly,

and ran her finger through the blood, took a taste,

and said: “As a boy, as a prince, as a slave, you did well.”

Call up sirens and spirits and things wild of another world,

and you cannot make yourself their master or lord.

They will wrap you in the silver bonds of cruelty, devotion.

And there is death in loss, and knowing nothing belongs to you.

She makes a cross on my forehead with my blood, the last binding.

She turns from me, back into the ocean, spent the last of the potion.

She pulls off the dress, free and not made by the god that made me,

and is free in nakedness and without shame, and down into the

slate and colorless waves she dives, leaving the best kind of death,

the little death of greed and emotion, of a paradise that tasted of

the iron tang of blood, and the aching loss in a poets selfish heart,

that makes cathedrals and sacred groves of a wild girl’s breath.

Advertisements

The Warmth Of Her Name

All is bright, they say. All is well, they tell me.

I dream of paradise by a great and grey ocean.

I burn her photograph, but ashes in a green bottle.

I burn the face that haunts me, to put it out of my mind,

My dreams, the morbid fantasies of my drunk and foolish heart.

 

The ashes in the bottle, a lock of her golden hair, the kiss she gave.

I put them in and seal it with white candle wax, from a candle somehow burning.

I put the treasures and the accursed words I used to woo her on the glass.

I throw the bottle into that great and grey ocean, let those dark waters take her,

And the dreams and wonders and devastating adoration to the end of the world.

 

I fall to the sand, white and cold and moist, and let that bitter wind end all feeling.

I feel her face fading from my memory, the warmth of her name cooling in my heart.

I feel the gnawing desire, the ambition for companionship thwarted, fretting on the wind.

I feel the freedom of emptiness, the only peace the lack of wanting what cannot ever be.

I feel the angel curse my name, as it salvages that love from the great and grey ocean.