Moon beckons a beacon for the night demon’s path.
Comfort strewn by creaks of cooling corners in the bedroom.
Dutiful goodnight kisses obligate a renewed commitment
to freshly etched, stone set commandments of the marriage rite.
Left alone, he clicks familiar websites, browsing history
carefully kept out of sight. Easing tension transiently until eyes
hit on a caress of photo exhibited heedlessly. Reality battles virtuality
as thoughts slowly unzip the mask which slips silken to floor.
He fumbles to unclasp the clips to cyberstrip his Jezebel
who exists no more. As he closes his eyes, two knights collide,
twilight pain whipped alive again. It feels right, this hardcore
shame where he clamours death’s toll of Lilith’s liberation.
Lilith locks her front door, scurries upstairs. Scanning sky
for moon’s position, her brow furrows at full dominant shine
onto cunny musked sheets that arouse him. She remorsefully
shakes her head at the calling of her name within the silence.
Hot shiver – against eyes that she cannot see, but hold her
in gaze of violence of tormented past and mist a certain future.
This nyctophilic nymph lies down on stake of anhedonia,
praying for a peaceful sleep on splintered bed of obsession.
Anxious, as she blushes drowsy, his recurrent, fevered
subjugation returns. Feather of nightmares that tender a sting
more than any crop. He binds red thread round each wrist,
tying her tight, taking refuge in her secluded humiliation.
All his loss, his gain, his forthcoming pleasure and perpetual
pain dwells in her delirium. Dangering heavy on her solitude,
watching her scream his screams, weep his tears for him
as he is muzzled and mislead by promise of marital monogamy.
He pushes his hardened possession into her, so subtle, so gently,
so not to disturb her memories of a broken heart. “I want the control”
he whispers. She semi-swoons a protest, but her unconscious
relinquishes all resistance. He knows, she is his again.
Hydropic yearning spreads herself to drink his flamboyant lechery.
A salacious slave of his command to enter evergreen eden.
He ritualizes a devotional crucifixion with slow tender touch,
writing a sonnet on her breasts and raising her hips to his rhythm.
She licks and stokes abyss between who he thinks he should be
and who he really is. Caressing every conflict, nuzzling neuroses
acted out in careless words of sin. Prudently, he threshes her thighs
in carnal vexation, every lash a fight against his compulsion.
“Let me go”, she pleads as he rollicks rough her ruffled long strands
of auburn on pillow. He pursues to violate her with his melody,
“You will always be mine”. A jealous bite of erotomania that brings
them to obscene symphony, cadenced by her faithful cries.
He fades as she wakes, wet confusion blurs night into day.
Taste on lips she cannot place. Night visions flush fixation that fervid
villain will return to reclaim his Juliet of dark tragedy. Committed
to Magdalene asylum, she rattles the bars on her window, awaiting a rescue.
Voyeur, from “Of Lilith and Anthony” – © Katypoetess 2013