helgé

I am your virgin
I am your spell

Your shadow, that shadow
that falls across your eyes
that blocks your eyelids down
has me in its enthrall
your sparkle that eyes blackness
your shimmer that glows skin
‘round hard trim biceps
as night falls open.

I am your virgin
I am your spell

Your mouth, that mouth
that follows mine in every detail
pressed lip to lip
draws back to harness the heart
withdraws into its silence
subsides and peters into blankness
your lips that curl sensuously
as a sneer, large
and still empty.

I am your virgin
I am your spell

Your mystique, that secretly
encircles our numbness
that wants to be silence in soundlessness
engulfs me, envelopes me, taunts me,

I am your virgin
I am your spell