The Silent Siren and the Din of Daemons Dining

Set aflame
with the snap
of flint-like fingers

She had the voice of a siren

and he had the eyes of a daemon god,

so it is said.

it lit up the road
from here to Alexandria

There was smoke
that curled like slaves
in earnest
in innocence–

–felt in return
by its youth
as malice

It was a starlight savage gaze

towards which she danced barefoot.

His warlock beckoning.

Waxen, it melted
in vela fashion:

the contents
heating, bubbling, bursting
into rivulets that flowed
deftly into blood lagoons

She breathed her heaven breath in his ear,

and he consumed her

from the inside out.

They smoldered.

He ate her dulcet vocals

and thus the Siren was

forever put to silence.

It witnessed the death
of atmosphere,
simply watching it burn

But in the
twisting end:
asphyxiation

And there were hoof prints through the ashes.

So it is said.

Between Earth and the Underworld

Laudanum bottles
burst and rain down
from the skies to cut
and paste a lover’s overdose

She can’t get enough.

It flows a fount into
her mountain mouth
equipped with temper,
open,
devouring

She distinguishes
from the breaking distance
and the “space”
that was naively needed
for peace.

Invalid

A pass code corrodes
the tongue and
corrupts the lungs
from whence it comes
like climax

A passage denied,
she will have to pay
some fare,
with her
hands and hips
her hair or thighs

Her earthly wares
a sacrifice,

With Charon
she shall lay tonight