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By Briana Kassia Date: 2009 Apr 05 Comment on this Work [[2009.04.05.12.25.7642]] |
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he watches through the magic glass the witch combing her hair the wooden tines sliding through the silken mass each long stroke followed by her shapely pale hand smoothing stroke, slide, stroke, slide he cannot look away hypnotized by the sensual grace of the ritual by the exquisite riches beyond his reach she knows he is there she knows he watches her she knows and it pleases her deep and devious mind she does not change her pattern or create more of a show but she knows, oh she knows firelight gleams behind her, moonlights sheen on her face her shoulders bare to his bespelled gaze and she combs and strokes slowly till the hair lies smooth, waves and curls of honeyed gold over skin warm and waxen pale he cannot see it yet has never felt all that he dreams of darkly :his hands in her hair buried her face below his, luminous and soft her scent pervading entrapping his senses the petalled softness of her skin and the golden silken slide of her hair in disarray over the wine-dark pillow she knows he dreams she knows he rides wish-horses wild and smiles her triumph over his heart and soul even as she lies down upon her darkly golden bed wrapped round in wards and circles of protection and draws the spidersilks close she knows, but as she veils her eyes to sleep she smiles small and sweet, and he sees that she knows and more... that she dreams too. |