Bittersweet Love
Merlin’s gramarye,
wings unconfined,
to a new abode—
remote, misty lands.
A seductress
enfolded in grey:
Aotearoa,
mystic in her isolation,
elusive—
cold, fiery,
shaking and trembling
in her molten arousal.
Maria sits silently before me.
Blonde hair
burdens her shoulders.
She promises joy,
but her heart is broken—
shattered, unsure,
wanting more
than she can give.
Pleasure flickers in her glance,
but her eyes betray
the bitter sanctum below:
deep,
deep,
tossed with heartbreak.
Shipwrecked—
then saved
by the fisher of men.
Now sitting here,
sodden
in tempestuous slime,
slathered still
in a green, weedy shawl.
Maybelline mascara—
chocolate tears
running down her cheek.
The stars weep too,
their joy unconfined.
Strings are singing,
whispering to her—
Croce’s words
captive in my chords.
We sit in silence at the end,
lips locked
like Venus flytraps.
Insectile love
cannot escape this way.
Just a pondering,
pregnant pause
the music holding us there.