slip me down, under the skin; hold me back; tempt me out of our auburn
gourd and guerra my guerrilla whose mont and mount and weight shall
burn us through still yet; my love; the sirens make the rafts glow;
and you; they’ll do more yet; things we haven’t seen and cannot yet
imagine but we will:
I’ve seen you, strident over the storm, whose auburn and black glare
sears the night; storming over me too:
Lurch with glee; but still dismount; the terra I spent you gained; and
over everything the radiance of your glare:
Rock slow for me; it’s coming; all of our dreams; and like dreams,
they will be terrifying:
Each sceptered shaft of their weight full spent and towering over us,
our servants:
Clasp them now; test their heft; risk the gravity of their spoon and
sable scarf my dear; it’s only you
and what you’re becoming
this raft of kelp
now headed into the sun

Reblogged this on The Salamander Chronicles – Don Beukes and commented:
Robin Wyatt Dunn…
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