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Spellbound
Through tall grass to the world's edge,
I walk where coastline careens
to a restive sea below
the volcano, that hulk fuming
against a torch red sundown.
I climb its black back,
my feet trembling
on the cone of tuff and cinder,
the smoke curling
from earthen fissures,
and from the volcano's peak,
javelins of flame pierce
the sable sky, firing
smoky clouds fluorescent orange.
I lay my body
on rocky soil, transfixed
by the luminous heavens,
when a wayward star
plummets past me, blazing
a blue-white trail to the sea.
Like a brass key cut
for a steel lock,
he approaches me,
hazel eyes velvet,
horse-like nostrils flared,
he strokes my shoulder
with small, insistent breaths.
My breasts swell,
their flesh electric.
Blood unleashes
charged particles that circuit
from him through me
and back through him,
each entry to my body
drawing inward,
clenching,
quivering,
opening,
till, deep in the recesses
of my core,
a rusty latch
unlocks.
Stay up here with me
all night, here on the edge
of the world.