Today can be our Christmas , our eve of Thanksgiving
I see a maiden with a crown of mistletoe
Bearing gifts , wearing a gown of spider silk
Barefooted impressions upon known passages
My lady sashays in a persistent daydream ,  
lighting the outdoor candelabra of desire
A bonfire outstanding , a pyre of nightmarish
sacrifice she implores , a sword that strikes without
impunity , a goblet of raspberry brandy , porcelain ,
sensuous , quivering desire waiting to be quenched
I am the commanded , the longing , the bereft , froward ,
the left
Culled mouth , undeserving , culpable yet unstoppable
Seduction gorged upon , collecting on the corners of trembling lips ,
pooling at the neck and shoulders , collecting upon my chest ,
smeared o'er alabaster breast , heaving , tribulation , simultaneous
cries into night* ..