Allure

                                              Detail-sprouter.
                               Grandeur-maker, conjuror of worlds.
                       Leaf-veins flood to Amazons under your burn;
               ant-legs thicken to spine-shocking monstrosity; a child’s
              palm turns scorched, strange desert expanse. Circle-magic!
        Light-bending explosions of the wild invisible: eye-glue, mesmeric;
            your wise, blossoming face lends me God’s own eyes. Kapow!
                To miss even a sliver-moment of this springing, popping
                         bomb-blast would be a sin. I hear breathing
                                  at my right shoulder. Just behind.
                                              Deep. A chuckle.
                                                        But I
                                                        can’t
                                                        won’t
                                                  &nbsp      look
                                                         back.
                                                        These
                                                         eyes
                                                         are
                                                         just
                                                         for
                                                         you.