The Beast

Somehow he has carved himself a relief in the fragrant balsa of my heart with nothing more than his physical beauty and sexual intensity unmatched by anything I have felt before.  Despite his scales, claws, and brimstone, the behemoth who would hardly know I've been pierced by his flagging tail captures my imagination and seizes my sensitivity.  Unlovable and unthinkable, he slips like eels under the boat hull and jams my rudder.  I should give him his portion of the sweet bread from my Hindi basket to lick from his palms and turn to the pleading hands of other wedding guests.  Ignore the insatiable flame that consumes the blood between my thighs.  Die every night to the memory of his bare skin gorging that flame like kerosene.  Dionysus closes his palm over my Venus mound as eyes like pale sapphires flare into mine from behind black strands.  Swear on my milky body.  Count me dead.  I need his skin like mine own.  If I stole it, the Beast of Revelation would turn a sickly amber eye towards me and crush my skull with a splintered hoof stained with saintly blood.  And I not even remembered in the jeweled windows of his temple...

I will wander the dark tunnels of forgetfulness until my feet are numb from the icy puddles scattered as mirror shards under the moonlight.