Gossamer
On hot August nights, he often
sees her coming,
Shrouded in silk gossamer,
floating as a doubt
Before being chased away by a
sweeping gale…
He stretches out his hand to
touch, to kiss the gossamer,
But is entangled, snared in the
inextricable cobweb:
Wrapped into smoky threaded haze,
The harder he fights, the tighter
the strings…
He wriggles under the ethereal
weight―
Wants to pull back from the
infernal capture,
She flaps her gossamer and he
falls into rapture…
Web of Seduction -- João Figueiredo
No comments:
Post a Comment
Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?