Unconquerable Queen

Unconquerable Queen
If not till the bitter end,
I shall know the beast of her.
She redeems me, and I despair.
She, who vaults as worms through shadow and earth
To prize her birth as icon�s heir, is my unconquerable queen.
I beg past vanity to dance with the vixen
I see in her work and craft absent of showy airs.

Into the night, I stir madness.
And I devour her every word,
Every line that suffers me to slumber
In her thoughts and dreams and plunders,
In her brevity and each echo of digression,
In her shy unseeing beauty and fierce charge of darkness,
In her brief white elation and grand crashing grief,
In every soft letter�s rise and great swaying curve;
It is the soul her poetry offers me to eat.

And it is not enough. It is not enough.
I would have her with fangs beneath a moon
For time�s swift hindrance to roll my eyes over her
Flesh and bruise and every blanching throe,
Every rose-colored minute of ire,
And the very plum-blushing moment of lust and lechery,
Till star after star turns bittersweet in the low sky
As her blood flows like Eden over my mourning lips;
For she opens me as a sunrise and dares introduce me
On the yawns of morning to the vast, careless world.
A hundred-thousand whispers of truth tremble afore me.

She is my art, my breathing art
Cool in her suave accent of words and flesh.
And I would be a loon to eschew her taste
Through envy and desire and the warm breeding poems
She presses to my eyes with every filament she bears
By bone and finger and vehemence to pen and paper
Alone, but forever engaged in my ring of teeth, that I might
Know the very air and weight within her words and veins.


�For you, Kelly, with all my love and respect�


Todd K Bush � 2005
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