Sin and pleasure are eternally intertwined, and form the basis of the underworld…
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
a phoenix from these gray ashes
of the netherworld.
as a blacksmith’s forging of
desires, peened blunt and
calling for the hunt,
ritualizing the erotic dance,
in the underbelly
of sexual indulgences; and then,
when spent, exhausted at
the denouement of mixed passions,
silhouetted by tapers of
sepia candles dimmed by wasted
revelries, drug-like satisfaction,
now, now, now is the moment of refraction.
am reborn, once again,
in renewed rites of passages,
rising like straw-masked African dancers,
unrecognizable at first,
then slowly growing, pounding,
moaning and chanting.
I assert my right