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The Lady's Banquet

She got up; the dawn broke
And the spirit's pillar looked shinning.
She got up; my blood shook,
The wall shook, the guards collapsed as orphans.
The magician cast his penknife in the kiln.
The tiger laughed.
The hedgehog wept.
Seven sins inside the spirit smiled.
The just king attended
Decorated with the sound of my blood,
My father's wildernesses
And the desires of the grandfather, involved in temptation.
I wept, the colors of the dream wept.
She got up so as to lower seven luxurious heavens
And down to earth restore brilliance to the dawn
And make the morning a prophet
And make the night childish
Dancing round the fire.
She got up to grant the hour
What the hour grants to water.
To grant obedience bitter riding
And to the sting her enjoyment.
To restore the black valley to the cold summer.
She got up; I reached out my hand
Toward her tender buds
Toward her fresh pear.
My palm spread out ….
When the apples lay down.
She got up; the light radiated and radiated.
My heart is blind.
My eyes penetrated into the valley the way a knife did.
My blood squatted.
My blood vibrated, purred like a wounded wolf.
The light was on.
Nothing but flowers separated
My love's finger or my grave.
The flowers adjacent as a drawing of frightened necks
Became nearer to me.
I looked at love's black valley.
I was a flame from foot to head.
The wild rain poured down.
The ground lightened and shook as clothes in the wind.
The kiln boiled up.
But I did not reach the valley.
I did not find out the well of curse,
The necks of flowers.
The wild rain poured down and burnt me
Like a thunderbolt on my throne.

Submitted: Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 11, 2013


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