I sing to you, brass belle,
 deep, in your frequency,
 a joyful tone
till two smiling wench’s eyes
 blink knowingly, happily
 back at me.
Enthralled, you open
 your mouth and bless
 the reverberations with ethereal delight.
Us two laughing, broomless witches
 clasp hands in the wind
 and fly.

Naked matriarch
 crowned with lights,
 your scepter playfully glinting
 while two angel wings
  tickle from your back, aglow,
I bow in your presence and
 humbly take your plump hand
 to lightly add that touch
 of sparkling polish to your fingertips.
Excuse my awe as I am entranced
 by your fairie bright eyes
 as I paint silver upon your lips;
then, once more bow to finish
 with attention to your toes.

How is this I felt the ruddy
 outlines of love jut from me,
  physically present?
Not of my own will —
 a companion —
such a gift, so precious
 I would never wish it harm.
Yet, when I shout,
 “I refute thee thusly”,
 I rend my toe
  upon this happy calamity.

Your gaze before me,
 as pleasant as sparkles on the sea,
I dig for the gem you carelessly dropped,
 the muddy ocean seeping under each paw.

The anchor tugs
 the bottom of my heart
 — a heart bobbing on the waves —
 trucks it on a steady journey
  to the bottom of the sea,
  to its own country
   with new life.
Upon touching ground,
 a phosphorescent chain-reaction
  alights the ocean floor.

Heavy drops fall
 and wet the grass and bark.
Leaves stir; darkness gathers
 into a grumble.
My stomach churns.
I, so young, gaze
 though the window in earnest anticipation,
 witness spasms of light and crashes of thunder.
My organs quake with each strike.
How could I and this vast tumult —
 am I part of nature?
Is this my true mother calling me,
 claiming me, seeking me out?
Strange rending,
 I confess I am you.

I took this journey for love,
 not death.
Each night, Captain reminds me,
 could be my last.
Each day, I'm blessed
 with light, wind, and salt.
Strange, my being taught
 to command men.
My duties I fulfill,
 thankful for my life.

Petals cry as the sunlight,
 so long gone,
 returns, oblivious to small sadness.
Life pulps through cold limbs;
 corpuscles burn.
The flower opens its eyes
 and takes in the sky
 and the fire.
Red petals soak up the blues
 as they stretch in ecstasy
 and throb till they spy sunset.
The joy that laughed with the sun
 whispers to the stars.

I’m tucked away in a small cabin
 ’mid your vast forest
 and float upon your world of love,
 breathing in and out your atmosphere,
the stars twinkling ’neath your sun.

For you: fine lines.
I press with care;
 the ink bleeds.