Corination

Glasya-Labolas lingers,

An unconsecrated presence, obediently moving,

Swelled with joy for an anticipated end.

On this heavy night, with earth’s wet breath rising,

We are suspended—he in me, I in him—we…be…mingled.

Scented by his wreckage, these gifts are brought to me,

In dense fog, this hound devours so sweetly.

Ambient figures lay royal, weighted softly, devotedly…

Has me asking—will he empty me?

All for tempting me?

…Demanding to crown me,

Loyal at hell’s entry.

Finish this servant in flames,

Dim the darkness, burn before disked sight.

Words kneel to illuminate,

Affection reflectively mirrored.

…He whispers,

“Have you ever felt more lovely?”

…In ruby rings and pearls.