Trances
by D McDonald
-Mosaic Literary Runner-UpI watch you dance,
caught in the spell cast by
your hips and the swirling
halo of your wrists;
Your body is Magic—pure,
ancient power summoned
by the holy beats of
drum and bass;
I am a hedge witch worshipping
the primal spirit’s fervor conjured
at this altar of sweat, and the pagan goddesses
who flow just beneath your flushed skin,
who burn upon those lips
I crave so badly to kiss;
Last night I dreamt of the arch of your neck,
exalted in the creation of our cosmos,
in the purple blossoms of new galaxies which
you begged for me to stain across your collarbone,
your moans as my fingers move inside you,
a hymn I can’t forget;
I watch you dance,
my own body swaying under the enchantment,
and we glide together for a song, your fingertips
etching runes into the small of my back;
Your body is Magic—and
I offer my flesh as tribute,
to keep your celestial incantations weaving
ever-lasting.
48
Fruit as Viewed Through a
1950 Kodak Duaflex II Camera
by Mikaela Fischer