Fragile Sorcery

If I could only see her face

but she was unreachable then

I wanted to reach her

I did all I could

 

She was mine

and

she was more

It was never enough

I wanted to see everything

She devoured time when we were together

I witnessed her inner battle come undone

She became displaced

I saw the future as

a memory

She was timelessness

her watch was vintage, a windup

She fixed her gaze on me

She fixed her gaze 

She became the sun

I didn’t care if somebody saw us

We were in love

It was deafening and very unnerving

her skin was like velvet

it remained so

her cheeks were covered in 

soft white hairs that 

reflected the sun

I hear that is what made 

Marilyn so photogenic, too

she was an exotic animal

not unlike an extra-terrestrial

with enormous sensual desire

endless appetite

she destroyed me

I was exhausted

I was exhilarated

I wanted that velvet skin on mine

“I wanted to paint you in the stars,

I wanted you with me in the stars;

like Henry Miller, riddled with love,

packed stained wine glasses and

a celestial -patterned throw blanket

in a suitcase

as his single carry-on for the long

boat journey to New York to bring 

as an offering and a sign of worship

to his beloved!”

 

She wanted me on the ground

underground

we were outlaws

we were outside of time

we were galaxies

we were Pharaohs

we tamed the Sphinx as we

made love

made the air around us collide into

stars

made noises

oceans of sighs gasps and when she

came she always broke the windows

and I kept her quiet when we could not be heard.

She was a fantasy creature

a feline

a monster

She was Kinski and Bardot and Seberg

Arsan and Olin and Karina

I needed to get up early

I kept trying to unsee her

but I could hear the sound of her

toy whirring in the dark

and I was hard again

Suck it, baby

I love you.

 

It was summer

there were vacationers everywhere

 

It was a natural history museum

there were botanists everywhere

 

It was a crowded intersection

there were motorists everywhere

 

It was an art exhibit

there were art lovers everywhere

 

It was a dream of us fucking

there were spectators everywhere

I wanted them to see my woman

I wanted them to want her

and then watch as I pleasured her.

I was her humble servant

I was her slave

I was her master

when she allowed it.

It was Simone and Satie and sometimes it was

Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence

mostly, it was Del Rey

because she adored her voice and

maintained she was her writing sister of the moon

We were animals

she was my nightmare beast

my dangerous poet

my book of illicit stories

We traveled the sensual capitals of the world

never leaving the bed

 

She was a jackal

a monkey

a puma

a donkey

She was aubergine

she was fuchsia

she was electric blue

she was cold steel

 

She was a dog

a roe

a horse

a sow

She was soft bronze

aggressive silver

rose gold

so bold with her Kafka and Camus

in broad daylight

and escapading Nin

and South-facing Marguerite with her pink fedora

and Chinese lover

and she was ferocious de Beauvoir sipping coffee

at Les Deux Magots

 

but she is not second sex

she is primal

she is phosphorescent sex

she is a deep bottomless ravenous cave

I have only begun

I have scratched the surface

It is a shimmering glow

 

She was mood swings

she stayed endlessly in the bathroom

marveling at her reflection

the lines

the grays

the luminosity she claimed

sometimes disappeared

 

she was all woman

but sometimes she resembled

a godlike demon without a gender

with pure liquid, ambrosia

between her thighs

sweet nectar, a mythical fairy within

almost alive with its own heartbeat

a thumping as I fingered her pussy

 

“I love your fingers”, she would whisper

looking intently at herself in the mirror

in the ceiling

the Netherworld of our myriad erotic awakenings

the stranded, tropical island with 

hilltops and valleys and her breasts 

looking to be caressed

the heat of our bodies

the Oriental lanterns and the ancient, heavy

quilt she insisted on because now

 

it was winter and her body fragrant with

oud accord and cardamon and clove

and she wrote in her lay-flat journal

with a pencil, relaxed,

as I sketched her spread her legs

and the place of idolatry between

 

I bowed my head to worship

I licked her lips and thrust my tongue inside

she wrapped her long legs around my neck

and wore her striped knee-high wool socks

shamelessly and looked like the most sensual

Heart-of-Frost Goddess in them

with blood pumping and her lips swelling and

her soft spot so wet and pulsing

and breasts two small winter apples

tasting like tangerines and

honey and

luscious grapes meticulously poured into

Marie Antoinette’s signature chalices as

I bit into them

She told me that was what she fantasized

when we were apart

my fingers on her body

my mouth on her nipples

biting

sucking

tasting her lust

 

It was spring

and the weather

unpredictable

mild and tempestuous

hot rain warm showers

bathtub fragrant with oils

we climbed on top of the colorful quilt

and sprayed it with desire.

 

Will you let me control you?

Will you let me do what I want to your body?

Will you moan and ask for more if I stop?

Will you let me fill you up with all I have to give?

Will your orgasmic howl echo through the house?

Will it give us momentum, a cover, a safe place

a secret spell

against the violent outside?

Magic in the mornings

Magic in us

Magic, as I watch you unhook your underthings

as you undress for me

as your drop your magic potion on your clit

very carefully and

let me rub it.

 

Once there was a garden

and I was the gardener

Give me those deep purple kisses

your lips in the early morning dew

as the summer rain falls

we can hear it through the open window

are like a dip in the calm rapids

a dive into the hot springs

Summer, I see your face

I see it slowly revealed in the mist

a play of sugary watermelon and salty caramel

delicious cantaloupe and I caress your body

and heal you

I see your face

as I fuck you hard

come to me

my darling.

If I am the gardener

it is because you are the gardenia

 

If I am the lover

it is because you are the loved

 

If I am the inquiring hands

it is because you are the soft feel

 

If I give you pleasure

it is because you turn into pleasure

 

If I am the conduit

it is because you are the Goddess

 

If I travel into you

it is because you create me.

 

It is late, now

We need to go to sleep now.

She drank cup after cup of strong coffee

mornings and her Keith Haring tee-shirt

ripped to shreds by time

a mug in hand and scrambled eggs

the frying pan cooling on the back burner

and my finger in your pussy,

a little

 

Let’s pretend it’s a jungle

Let’s be the only two people in the world

Let’s walk to the café and back

order hot chocolate and focaccias

Let’s eat pizza and drink wine

Let’s celebrate

Let’s make love until we are no more

just warm, nameless bodies on the bed.

 

Tell me you love me.

Tell me you want me.

Tell me your fantasies.

Tell me how you feel when we look at

each other in the near dark of the

fabric of days

 

She was broken

She was formidable

She was starving

She walked between worlds

a vampire.

 

I had no choice but to keep touching her.

Published first on the private X.U. community web page as a serial poem in December 2024.

All artwork by the magically talented Pete Harju, used with kind permission.