The Heart of the Dragon

Small figures scurry on the landscape below, like insects across a map.

Discordant, the wings beat that bare my sleight body aloft upon this suspended, embodied, sensual flight. Gold-Dragon-Might. Glorious his scales shine; hard, smooth, clasped tight and cool between my naked thighs, as he lift me / fall me - and lend power where once there was subtle weakness. Yet, such power as owning such angelic-evil beast seems hollow, as we shall one day part; and that rhythm be lost. So death in battle would be a just end to this tortured, wretched, beautiful life. Then only, can our lives be joined together, in eternity.

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