The Demon Lover

You move as a brush:

Softly, softly,

Painting

Light kisses,

Over this earthly canvas,

Of mine;

Now sharply, sharply,

Wild,

And uncoiling,

Like the mind,

Hidden in black silk,

Depthless like space,

Lust dark,

Orbs of molten gold.

Watch, breathless,

As you transform,

With burning strokes,

Each bare inch,

Of this mortal refrain;

Fill it with pearls,

Greedily snatched,

From the shell,

Of your immortal soul,

And sing in your sweetest voice,

'You are mine,'

'You are mine.'