serene infinity

Scream for me,
mysterious muse,
who waits in shadows;
breathless panting.
Sing to me in almost-whispers,
threaded with the yarn of your mind,
needled with tantric acid.
I am falling up and down
with your
sweet symphonic crooning.
Tip and sway your reckless voice;
I will ride it like a tidal wave.
The dread of the Fates is on my chest,
warning me that if I do not follow you,
through streams and societies,
through myths and magic,
through evanescent tunnels and byways,
through conference rooms and ancient tombs,
I will miss the feel of my beating heart
against the nectar of your pumping blood.