THE MYSTIC DANCER
AND THE HOOKAH PIPE
Finger cymbals, drums,
hip slide and belly roll.
Soft rustle of a jeweled veil
as it slips from her shoulder.
Obsidian hair, a flail
of lightning and bats' wings
in the moonshine of his eyes.
Her skirt swirls in a phantasmagoria
of incense, liquor, and smoke rings
rising from the black-oiled well
into which he falls.
She flows like mercury
through somnolent streets
in the twilight city of his
mind.
With a face of meerschaum,
vermilion lips, and volcanic
tides
that swirl in her eyes, she caresses
the night visions hovering
at the twisted edge of delirium.
Too late, he fumbles
for the switch to extinguish her
spell
as he falls into her embrace
--
the morning glory of his
death.
INHABITING A DISTANT
MOON every night the moon reinvents itself and darkness shapeshifts all around us coagulating in the hollows inchoate forms wait beneath the crackle of static in the air they will come again tonight a black geyser of creatures flung like dark bolts of sinking air in the blackout of our lives if you’re not hiding now you’ll never be found again Marina Lee Sable was born in Windsor, England. She lived in London for
six years working for a newspaper in Fleet Street before moving to New York,
where she works for an international law firm. She enjoys oil painting and
crafts. Her poetry has recently appeared or is upcoming in Lost in the Dark,
T-zero, Dark Krypt, Eclectica, Ragged Edge, Poetry Super Highway, and other
magazines.
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