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Simple Musings



Are you an incubus child?  The demon son of Satan, a ruined prince of light?  Perhaps you are Lilith’s get; she is rumored to be the mother of your kind.  Were you nursed on nightmares deep and tragic by weeping fallen angels?  You must have cut your teeth on all the dark, twisted tales told to you at your sire’s knee.  How well you learned those old lessons of temptation; you soaked them in until they penetrated every cell you possess.  You were tailor-made to tease and delight the human senses, the song of a siren embodied in a man’s form; deadly beauty I might willingly drowned in.  Your eyes, shadowed and fierce, only hint at awesome sights, unseen by mortals since the stars were new.  They mummer to me of a sinister wisdom, arduously learned in a life, that perhaps, has been lived to long.  How many others have followed you down your primrose path?  What did they find at the end?  What sacrifice did you require for your love?  Do you even remember them at all?  I lose track of time when I catch sight of you, I am captured securely, simply another moth, ensnared and hypnotized by the cold fire I see in your gaze.  Your lips look softer then a fawn’s first breath.  I wonder what kind of kiss they might grant, what passions hide behind that wicked smile?  Would you taste like the new snow?  Might you lie cool and crisp against my skin and disappear as quickly?  Or maybe I would become the tasted.  You come to me at night and whisper to me in my dreams; soft passion and heated promises I know you cannot keep.  I listen with a foolish heart, wanting to believe.  In my private shadows, I imagine your scent surrounds me; I find myself inhaling deep, mesmerized, and dizzy at the thought of having you so close.  Only in this secret moment can I pretend that you might be mine.  How dare I, an earthbound creature, dull and mortal, crave your touch, pray your attention might turn my way, that you may deign to notice me and abide with me awhile.  I fear this excitement you unknowingly provoke in me.  It boils and bubbles secretly beneath a calm surface that I present to the outside world.  I know this obsession can lead to simple tragedy.  That a being like you was never meant for me.  Better to pursue a prey suited to the hunter, then perhaps, to find oneself the all too willing prey at the end of the hunt.  Still you fill my thoughts and bedevil me, quite pleasantly I find.  I choose to keep my fantasies and fancies for a little while longer.  After all, I am fairly sure you won’t mind.