Stronger than a Scimitar-like Serenade
His words spread there across my senses, red
Across my hearing like a scarlet sheet
Of lightning, red across the thorn sliced head
Of Jesus, redder than his blood on feet
Oozed out from spikes. The words spread out there in
My nostrils like a melody of fur,
A softness and a thickness on the skin
Of holiness—words like a cheetah’s purr.
His words compel my eyesight. It now swells
Vanilla-like. My glimpse is touched with mild
Aromas. Passion’s words are licking smells.
His words are like a mellow fang gone wild.
..Their meanings resonate in marrow bones
….Like purple blindness mixed with claw-scraped moans.