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Green Fire of the Iris.

Mindless, I give in,
seduced by her incantations,
massaged through ocular synchronization,
cat and laser-pointer effect, entranced
by the subject, object

of selective attention,
surrounded, soothed, tantalizing
orchestra of affect,
like a shell of echoes, vibrating,
resonating cerebral webs
and heartstrings,

offering this then that eye
to sensual sparks, a violent storm
of warmth with a sturdy anchor
in those psychic highbeams
where the green fire of the iris

squeezes an intense hole
of darkness, lovely, voiceless whispering,
a subtle, neural breeze
that never ceases to bring me
to my knees, temporary

surrendering, a willing plaything,
allowing the predator
and prey to cross
each other’s lines, yet hold
their own, give in
to dissolution.


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