Monday, September 9, 2013


Like a streamer
Rustles the soft silk
against bristled skin,

Naked body
Under Crimson silk
Languid as a butterfly
lays Leda in sweet sleep

Awaiting the Swan:
Silken Skin
Seduced by soft senses
Leda jitters in solicitude,
in feathery thirst

Silent sweet Leda sleeps
involved in moths cradles
intoxicated, attracted
by the lights of many colors
shed over the veil
of her bare skin

A boiler bubbles
Innocent, the dormant cocoons
unaware of their boiling fate

Leda swaddled in silk
Dementedly perjures
The cruel saga
written in threads

Leda immersed in delights
as Zephyr furiously
invades the window
in icy blasts
Burns her

The mellow breasts
Stiffen beneath the silk
As she paints her lips

Leda sighs
At Zephyr's whispers
Awaiting time to rush
The caress of the silk
To finally dull
Her sensitivity of moth

For the inquest
The hour of the swan