She Devours Mist And Decorates In Veils~

~Oracle Series~

She was transformation at its most divine

a shroud across white cheeks

made of silk;

the spider looked upon her handiwork

and wished it the color of the sea

as she

the woman

laughed

lifted the azure ocean from her lips

and kissed the spider on her soft

round abdomen

making the arachnid blush

shiver

and develop a liking for kisses

no human could ever really fill

after hers

 

She ate the mist out of the mouth of dawn

dressed herself in the Sahara

wove sunbeams through her hair

radiant in her own dangerous sway

solidifying through a fold of bricks

that took her into the heart of old Morocco

where the men still wanted their women chained in veils;

a man cursed her in front of a cafe

she leaned through the air between them

and bit his laughter in bitter blood

from the corded muscles of his throat

“Familiarize yourself with cultures.”

she whispered through the mortar and the dark eyes

eating her

coveting her

until she laughed

and became the source of all things

her hips wound round with golden asps

she filled the walkways with the forty veil dance

sinuous as sin

deadly as the cobra's amour wound in silver braids

through her snow and sunshine hair

she danced through the speechless town

and called the women from their burkhas

into her skin

until they trailed her in beautiful mocha skin

and wild eyes

driving the men mad

and deep into the desert

 

"I think I'll call you Smooth Move."

the boy, who was really a god made of amber

and too much thought of the body of Babylon

lost somewhere, etched in calligraphy under a mound

outside the parameters of everything containable

he said this to the woman dressed in dew

seated in the center of a lotus

in the arch of a moon swan doing figure eights

around her blossoms

"Ha!" said the woman and went back to singing Om

 

The boy who was dying imagination inside his deity

frowned

and asked

"What does that mean?"

and the woman smiled with her sea green eyes

leaned into his dusty loss

and whispered,

"I will show you, since you ask."

and the swan  said “O my.”

and unfolded out of his white wings into a man with dreams etched into his melodic skin

popped himself through atomic particles into the Louvre

leaving her

and leaving him

to be bad

alone

 

"What will you show me?" the boy

who was once a god

but was now little more than curlicues of memories etched into stone

being fragmented by trickles of mercurial waters in caverns

deep in the earth

asked the woman

with the jewel in the center of her forehead

"This." she winked

leaned in to drink his bitterness

and to eat his godhood right out of his mouth

her sharp little tongue digging into his fevered heart

and driving home her point into his bones

 

"Now, you can go be a boy.”

she opened a fragment through the air

and believed in him enough

to scatter his jeweled atoms through the oval flex

and exhaled him through;

the boy shook himself before a painting of a woman with obsidian eyes

as the man who was once upon a swan

sighed

and took the boy's hand

and said,

"I suppose now you will want to be friends."

the boy frowned

and shook himself

and the man said

"Have you ever had a cappuccino with homemade vanilla ice cream?"

 

The woman smiled at the mist

and put her veils back in place;

she bent into the pond

outside the old Buddhist Temple

as the old monk came through the lush garden pleats

and said

"No swimming before your lessons."

she smiled

walked on water

and kissed the old monk on the mouth

deep

so very deep

until he believed himself a young man again

and then she laughed

 winked

and he sighed

"Scandalous, simply scandalous."

as the woman opened her wings

and retrieved her sword out of the belly of the skye

for her morning lessons

in Hanakiri;

goodness knows the bonsai needed trimming

that morning

so close to the end of one world as things were

as a monk tasted ambrosia

and spice

on his lips

smiling

at his inhuman girl

 

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[JelliFyshKissUs]

A story written with poetic luster. The figure of a woman all girls want to be and all men lust after. Such a spiritual flavor on the bulbous tips of the taste buds. Seems a hint of lessons wrapping themselves in lessons regarding acceptance and a readjusting in the thinking of men--and women for that matter. I could be wrong, but I enjoyed that which I got out of it. Thank you for the feast this morning.

[Jibey]

I so loved reading this entrancing story of cultural collision, of past and present, of fresh vitality breathing through the heavy veils of tradition... There were moments of erotic tension and awakening which added a dynamic to the whirl of images and ideas... I prostrate myself before you, goddess of words

[Kerry O'Connor]

I adore this poem,Selene, so many beautiful things happening in every stanza. The lines that stands out for me are: she danced through the speechless town
and called the women from their burkhas into her skin...
What a call to arms.

[luciddreamer]

Oh my, what a gem this piece is, outstanding :)
Peace
Robin

[David W Moore III]

The explosion of myth through this piece is bewildering. I pictured this duality seducing Clotho before she went on to seduce another all while remaking the world we see in her image. I was actually in the middle of a piece which features Clotho prominantly. Maybe I'll finish it now

[A.A.Romanczuk]

An exquisite goddess...You restore faith in beauty ...I wonder...is she real or is she your creation...either way, I humbly bow...a sensual storm of spirituality...contradictory but I find it to be true...

[TAO]

Incredible. Myths for the times; I'm blind to the secrets, but still, I am affected, and the effect is heart going to war with its prison. This was nothing short of awesome.

[My Fair Lady]

Ah the power of the bejeweled kiss. Ahhhh...

[Rick]

This has a soundtrack, did you know that?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBTld7Wv8lQ

Crank
It
Up.

[Aven]

"making the arachnid blush
shiver
and develop a liking for kisses
no human could ever really fill
after hers"

you tickle my appetite for poetic treasure... this was my favorite part of many beautifully constructed lines... just amazing how you imbue your words with such allure and divine inspiration...

[Peter Joseph Swanson]

This should be read in church