Incandescence - Song Of Cassandra

Caught in the bold, primal, brilliant

Blue, fleeing divine pursuit,

Girl, will you be a

Woman, ever?

Blinding, your face!

Beyond beauty,

And ever so kinky,

And languid as the flames

Of the scarlet hula skirt

Swinging wildly from your

Snaky hips,

As you spin, pirouette after

Pirouette, round and round

Circling the raging fire,

A sidereal universe of all-consuming,

ever agonizing pain!

Girl, you will ingurgitate

Creation! 

Waiting, in turn for you

To be devoured,

stretched taut as drums, are

The language bearers,

The fabricators

Of lust, the relentless

record keepers

Of convulsing flesh

On bones, above the greedy 

Earth:

Lying in wait, they oversee

With glee, your endlessly

Debased soul and numinous,

incandescent

Flesh.

Flung headlong into the

Hungry maw of the 

lurking god

In the boiling, molten lava

Sunken deep in the volcano's belly.

Or chained (to the

Trembling rock, blood thrumming in your guts, 

and fear) out at sea,

ripped to shreds

'Twixt steely teeth -

Behold! the rising god

Of the boiling, molten waters,

From deep within the rippling

Ocean's bed -

Girl! You'll be the ultraviolent

Virgin, the Goddess incarnate,

the blessing and the curse,

Your all-seeing eyes

Ever vilified,

The devourer and the devoured!

But a woman?

Never.