Black Widow

The ardent lure of darkborne mysteries Stalks you in the musted gloom As your scent swarms the chamber And bestirs my primal hungers. Lust tentacles sprangle your flesh To claim by a bind of passion. You strain against my sprawling weight Til heat sheaths your hardness and we writhe as one. Now coming forth in pulsing, viscid strands, My carnal flux slathers like a silver caul. Your skin is laced with glistring filaments Spun, tauntly webbed, about you. The mirkesome light scuttles from your roiling But soon you are banefully quelled. Enshrouded by my gossamer lover's pall, You shimmer ever dimly in the shadowlit lair.

With thanks to Micheal Amorel, editor of CTHULHU SEX Magazine,
upon whose pages this poem first appeared. Published 2005.

Copyright © 2003 by D. Wakefield