Mariah

You are the virgin wind

Building gently

Strands of blonde hair and celestial silk.

The warm breeze

That carries a thousand whispering spirits

Collected from wicker totems

And soft spoken mirrors.

Keys jingle around your neck

Like carpenter’s nails

Or a blacksmith’s chimes.

You are blessed.

The passion gale

Moist of the humidity

Of the breath that seduces me

Passing through spring meadows

And budding forests

Anointed with the oils and sperm

Of incestuous flowers.

You spread across the orange and purple sky

Like the calm before the storm.