A Hiss in the Night

In an opiate dream of Zanzibar
she moves in sinuous measures.
Her partner for this dance as
sinuous as she
a python from a tale
of Indian sorcery.
A lover once of not so supple form
he thought by guile to steal
what was not meant for him to wield.
It was with savage sorrow
she so spared him death.
Now orchestrated moans are
all that hiss upon his breath.
He writhes in dull delight an
ornament of infinite sighs.
He slides his caress through
feverish flame of night and
spends his days drenched
in drowsy scents of a dying
opiate glow. And he dreams
he dreams he is yet a man.