Brugmansia Bride (A Midnight Liaison to Appease an Insatiate Infatuation with the Void)
by Kieran Boylan
(Sydney, Australia )
I walk alone in fading light.
To no one’s but my own delight;
I know I am alone.
Yet, trumpeting a soundless melody,
Pallid flowers, white as bone,
Hang down heavily from the weight
Of their scent alone.
Inhale: the luminous plumes
Exhumed perfumes of Death’s exhale,
That drifts invisibly like mist and pours
Off petal’d lips to kiss the floor
Of earthen damp and creeping things
As it beckons and it implores.
My femme fatale of vanity;
To each nocturnal ear she sings.
A sweet miasma of insanity
Now rises with the moon.
My bride above, she sways beneath
Her vibrant veil of emerald leaf
And rolling corolla dress of white.
Betrothed now, by my plight
To pluck with tenderness
As I undressed and stripped bare
Her petals down without a tear.
Into each other’s soul we stare.
We had then -
Our first kiss.
Let's go far away she said,
Or anywhere but here.
The silver light now obsidian;
We set off, into oblivion...