you are my queen inside we curl up like cats in the vast white feather bed, dreaming of snow castles,
in my dream you are my slave we live in an abandoned church hold seances beneath weeping willows write poems in the moonlit attic kiss by candlelight talk to angels have wild sex to opera wearing tiaras, like princesses
you are my creator destroyer spinspinspin in the revolving door we dance in the fountain, stare at the sea swing on the swingset at dawn
you are a pool of black water filled with stars and leaves the hand that breaks the surface the arm that reaches up from the depths the arm that beckons