I will dance for you
like a piece of wind 
through the quietest distance, 
stirring 
  all points of supernal light 
into a retinal flash behind closed eyes--
  those fragments of bone
into an immaculate constellation for your prize.

But I want you to know
that I could 
womb fear in your hands 
drain your cavities of blood 
burn to ash the open iris
eliminated in your carnal stare,
                     your craven reluctance to be firm. 

But if you promise
me 
I will dance forever
in the statues of your mind
will let 
you  savor
the pure blood
that thickens 
beneath that lung colored face.
And that is what you want, really, isn't it?

She mounts the mouth wrapped around a silenced cry
climbing the impeccable scale of motion, 
arcane and bodiless as the last plague of being.