Sorceress

Simple as it seems,

It is not so easy being bewitched

by your eyes,

or your smile,

or some divine angle of curvature

of hips and breasts and neck

and … oh my God I’m lost again…

… wait, there I am;

hopelessly enthralled by dark ringlets

that end at your shoulders,

but lead me down into the depths of empty want.

A yawning chasm of endless, empty longing,

where I clutch vainly for some purchase on my sanity.

 

I hear your voice

and I am sure,

as the sun rises in the east,

that you are a sorceress.

The enchantments escaping every parting of your lips

defy my will

and beggar my sense of reason

to the point where your words

sound like another language.

We must not be of the same species.

Your ancestry must come from some long forgotten race of man,

Touched my the genetic markers of higher divinity.

 

I am certain you were dreamt of by artists,

designed by sacred science,

and blessed by holy rights to be perfect in the sight of men.

Radiant.

I am stricken.

I am actually ill.

I never asked for this enthrallment.

Please I beg you,

be my only light in life,

or snuff my soul’s flame now

and let me rest!

Exquisite and excruciating;

your gaze makes my heart beat faster,

so that I become lightheaded

and high on whatever toxins the body produces

when madly in love.

 

Instantly addicted

and hopelessly seduced;

I have my doubts that the devil

could entice me further.

I am stupefied.

No longer capable of thoughts of anything

but you.

 

Free me, beautiful witch,

from your spell,

or free me from this world,

For I have seen it’s apex,

it’s crowning triumph,

it’s perfection.

In the light in your eyes,

in your smile

and in your being.

It was is easy falling in love with you

as falling off a cliff,

except in this case,

you’ve push me.

 

 

HG – 2016

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