From time to time the instinct to rhyme
Primes my mind to memorize another Utopia.
Salivation thirsts salvation, so swells the sign;
Calling the chemical winds from mother Ethiopia.
The warm glow of Her grail sets the innocent ruse,
So I begin to summon Black Calliope, my Muse.

Monkish I enact a sacred rite of Magi-trade,
Once carried on caravan by the people under Saber Moon.
My senses swirl, a dervish dancing in chemocascade,
The waterfall foams; the nymph roams to Her boon.
Dream and reality move to rid their petty enmity
As I complete the motions to a feat of alchemy.

The essence, Eve of Evening ethereal, flows down surreal;
Nile silt submerges hungry urges in waves aghast,
To recede, pleasure leave scents of fruit nude of peel
And over saccharine seas set sail at full mast.
The Woman whispers within to bear the Bitter gales,
For the first falls to reveal Sweet sensate veils.

From majestic mount comes an undulating vibe,
Drumming life-pulse and plucking lusty nerves,
A flute swoon wooing Euphoria's wild tribe
Wielding singing swords with sensual curves.
Enraptured I run through a wavering forest of rhythm
That parts yet never departs through my neuroprism.

Calliope's spell-binding body sways upon a reflection:
Vision of obsidian pleats over pleading eyes,
Verily only angels anoint holy oil upon Her complexion
And shimmering mist alone enrobes nape to thighs.
To find Her takes insight, to forget-ascetic might-
Hypnos takes flight as Perfume permeates night.

Her feet wet yet firm against Whim's flow and ebb,
The Sea Spider Queen skates after thoughts aflutter;
Entrapping needless flappings in silken, caressing web,
Coordinating but not sedating wingbeat's glinting luster.
Flailing alone fails in forcing a fierce current
But mustering Wings en masse brings roaring torrents.

Man, Herd and Shepherd sleepily in self-command,
Shared a common Dawn under the eastern ascending Crown,
When upturned He discerned a coiled Beauty's reprimand
For not glancing around and granting All blessed sounds.
Fang-formed and warmed the tears wrought sustenance,
Seed-bound, to a spirit tamed by routine stagnance.

O Soma somatic who opens the Abyssal Sea,
Whirl me a Whirlpool rimmed by Your carnal caresses;
So I'm deaf to dreary Sun's pathetic plea
When diving for Oysters mysterious in coral tresses.
Black is the mark that all light is taken in,
Thus does a stunning Star sing from Within.