Leda and the Swan

Leda bends, she sways,

the agonizing pain,

the puriant pleasure.

Wings pressing her delicate thighs

opening them in a blurry of white.

Closer he enfolds,

she finds but scant will to fend.

She leans to his need, his nature.

A delicious invasion.

Zeus leaves his seed indifferently.

The queen of Sparta, alert to his flight beyond.

Twins moan in the womb,

Leda weeps aloud.

Stay

I left home.

I left home and moved on.

One small suitcase,

but enough memories

for all the tomorrows.

His shadow slinks, its next to me

corner of my eye,

filling my soul like cement.

Years are behind me,

my wings are clipped,

and I'm running now.

Just not fast enough.

He's in front of me,

nowhere to hide but inside.

Inside I go back,

I vision no escape....

this time.

My feet are bloodied,

trans versing this same circle; going nowhere.

Breathless

He plays her like an instrument he knows

intimately.

She arches for him,

He meets every curve

with his hard warmth.

Unwittingly casting a spell,

whispered secrets whorl

above their heads.

Their kiss, a potent drug

A climactic need.

Breathless.

What He Wants

He paces the floor

each step another heartbeat.

Heartbeat toward heartbreak.

Caressing walls, counting footfalls.

Her lips, touch

her essence.

He lingers, heart and hands

overwhelmed with memory.

Unable to let go,

with nothing to hold onto.

The Unknown

Who are you?; he whispers.

Walks around me,

assessing, challenging.

A deep need.

A desire, a foundation for flames.

He touches lightly

uncertain of the authenticity.

A fleeting kiss,

Who are you?

Gathers his appetite, his ardor,

reaches, pulls me into his arms.

A deep sigh.

I hear the word...”you”.

Far away and falling fast

fear claws, rigid, thick.

He resurrects me,

he's in me.

And I can't breath.

Breakable

I'm falling,

I'm falling apart in silence.

A quiet desperation.

Breakable.

A slow motion separation,

a daily shattering

of self.

Clinging, yet falling.

Broken.

Bridge of Sighs

A night venture

yes, just a short trip

this evening.

After all, what can it cost?

A mere coin?

Reach into your pocket

we leave straightaway.

The moon casts a naked shadow

on the blackest of rivers

not a ripple to disturb

the marble of it's fathomless depths.

Old as time

mortal for only a brief breath longer.

What color is your thread?

As we enter the room of Fates,

what color?

Red, a bright jewel blue perhaps,

or a shade of night dew on still water?

No matter...you have reached the near shore.

Hand your gold coin to Charron.

He awaits and he is impatient.

Take a lengthy breath and

step into the boat.

It is called the Bridge of Sighs for a reason.

This is your last.