Too Much (A Witch's Heart)

With downcast eyes you whisper, "this is too much;" but I know the most intimate act between a man and a woman is to have him take your hand and lead you through a crowded room. You trace your fingers down my wrist as you lead me around the twisted throngs of careful on-lookers locked into their own tragic romances slipping shiny little glances at other parts of the room. Glitter falls from the ceiling and lights upon my skin as you wrap yourself around my form in rhythm with this tribal beat as a thousand feet pound the floor shaking the false columns of a lost Babylon. I rewrite this Odyssey as I sink into the ocean of your arms with my eyes half closed and your lips on my neck...

Odysseus was captured by Calypso's languishing eyes for seven years but I think I am Circe stealing your men and turning them to beasts. A Wicked Witch of East Van living on a mountain of internalized fears and broken hearts. This room is full of nymphs turning their bright eyes to us in a winking moment of tantalizing breath. A two-sexed goddess controls the air around the stage and all eyes cast upon her but your lips remain upon my neck and your hands stray down my hips playing out the beat of your lust.

When we flee this room full of the beating hearts of breathless dancers and slip into the darkness of the city stealing down the back streets of dimly lit houses, you stop me and kiss me under a tree dripping in the last vestiges of summer. You run your hands under my dress caressing your way to your own desires. Did you worship me in that moment? Maybe even love me for just a second? But I am just a nymph, only vexing in the light of passion and good for very little else. I feel fall creeping it's cold hands into my hair and the wind begins to blow from the North to chill my witchy heart.

This big bed is where I am undone and slip into a troubled sleep. You stand in the corner and whispered 'I have better things to do...' I can feel the fall turn even colder as I search for my clothing to cover my now seemingly useless nakedness. I can feel the new winter creeping further into my heart as I turn to leave. The dawn, once warm, now turns to frost in the face of my anger; all passion leaking from me as the summer vibrates on and on.

You whisper, 'I never meant for this to happen. I did not mean for it to end this way..." I look back into your sad eyes turning onward to my newly built kingdom of ice and the completion of my wintered witch's heart... You are right... It should have never ended this way.