Phantom Surrender

“Phantom Surrender”



He is here to win.

Within the midst and mist
of seamless indigo;
uncontrolled hours of crave filled night
Within the decadent fog of moist dreams
and fantasy’s boiling sands
he seeps in sin soaked triumph
A Zorro masked seduction
of flesh tone shadow’s silhouette;
erotic and hypnotic to her
his passion’s prey
Beneath closed eyes of weakened will
and through opened soul that is weaker still
A taunting touch of ten fold lust is known.
Parting slumber’s wanton lips;
awakening the wantonness within such other lips
that tremble and quiver with fearless desire.
He strikes and moves; his weapon’s thrusts
precise and measured in tortured calibrations
only she survives.
She stirs and squirms in feigned helpless counter
and mews in betraying melting tones,
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmore ...”
Raw animal instincts rising;
heating now, the vessels
from which intrusion and
champagne’s cream
froth and foam and spill over the
voracious victor’s cup;
leaving its sensual spoils to be drunk
in another climactic war.
She succumbs to a fierce grinding halt;
lying in writhing defeat
in a tangled white sheet
        alone.
The illusion night’s specter in fading beholds
a sweat streaked ruin and breathless rubble
His conquest tonight
of countless surrenders before.