So Quivered, Sagittarius



a sequined sheet

of shudder-quaking stars…



Demigoddess' dancing dress

of sequined polyester

pooling on the grass

in the park on the hill

under which groans

the old Queen of the West.


Surrounds the vineyard fallow.


Ears bejeweled in sapphire lustre,

cabochon-cut, as bait for your favorite luster.

Empress' thongs yet cinched at thine ankles.

From aquiline nose, perspiration dangles.


Remnants of silken scarf

do braid our flesh in royal blue.

Dolled-up immortal,

we are one-night, eternal.


Shall I, Jackal, have my way with you?


Spellbinding shimmers, wet eyes white-dyed

Chronic shivers, wolfen soul aroused

Photonic glimmers humming under pergola stars—

stars hung limp—

limp from strings—

strings plucked from woven alkali yarn


Yarn uncoiled by stirring fingers, wet tips white-died

Fingers flung from fists un-knuckled—

Fists unfurled from paraplegic arms


Among those countless firefly clusters

and made-up constellations,

hovering 'twixt Polaris

and the bloody fangs of a friendly Ursa Major,

a Zodiac Hunter drops

a lucky penny from his fist.


Lucky penny like you

with a sheen on your face.

Heads-down, like you -

with your face buried in the cold, wet grass.

Tails up, just like you -

like you like it to be.

Such luck:

Full moon,

Friday the 13th.


One cent now possessed by me in my left pocket

One scent - your right neck nape - I still haven't forgot it.

Six senses conspiring.

All synapses firing.

One arrow piercing –

as I, into you.


Now tingling fingers strum simmering songs:

songs sung sweet,

sweet and rich,

rich with notes of Catawba wine.


Rouge-blushing Canens'

flinging fingers

command a Crescent Choir—

Fantasia Fingers

begetting rapture

chandeliering Dandelion Fire.


In thickets of Bluegrass

over the river

infinite crickets

do cry—


vintage red-whining,

with your purgatory cry.


Blue earth, essence,

all things living

crescendo as they sing

a song to awaken

pins and needles

in ever-jaundiced skin


A Seven Hill harmony

auroras in your eye.

Primary color melodies

nimbly dance the sky,


Now orange and green and purple blur

a cacophonic tune:

A not-so-perfect circus

Lucky penny, like you -

'neath a not-so-full full moon.


Demigoddess' dancing dress

of sequined polyester

pooling on the grass

in the park on the hill

under which groans

the old Queen of the West.


Surrounds the vineyard fallow.


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