1983 and the poet, fascinated by a woman of his acquaintance, spins off another muse, the Lady of Pain.
and through cool and cruel vermilion lips
the web is woven. the huntress sips
a dark liqueur. paradise and paradox,
the shadow forms only with light and walks
away, dissolving in the dark. to taste
the softness with a hunger not in haste
but in reverence and focused passion held
and commanded by a mind set against a legion swelled.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.