Artemis Lost

She comes in through my window, dripping
ambrosia and moonlight. I’m feigning sleep,
she draws me out with jasmine scented
kisses. She slips from innocence,
denim and satin, to writhe
down my spine as a shiver.
Promises born in salt and fire
roll with the swell of her breast,
die with the plea turned to ash
on my tongue, with the band
returned to her finger.
Nocking an arrow she raises,
releases; how deeply
her false overture pierces,
I never will,
never will
tell.

Ryan Stone

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Alley Cat

She slides through the city night,
caressing shadows to silence.
Wicked eyes come alive
as she pours through my window
like molten ambrosia
and starlight.

Her pale skin soft as the moon’s indiscretions,
her nails as long as nine lives;
she purrs in my ear, the language of felines
who wander with lust on their tongues.

She’s been here before,
sheds her guilt
with her habit
and yowls
the quarter awake.

Before dawn can catch her,
she slinks from my pillow
to bathe in the streetlight,
I watch her transform:
she twists like the band,
returned to her finger,

becoming a house cat
once more.

Ryan Stone

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Williamstown Night

Fireballs on the harbour,
electric, neon light,
laughter floating on a breeze –
seductive voice, a Williamstown night.
Each flame a lifetime’s story;
kaleidoscope of dreams,
lovers and stolen kisses,
beggars, kings and queens.

A yacht sways on the ocean;
freedom opens her eyes,
seconds linger infinitely,
the moment comes alive.
Knowing eyes speak wisdom
and hint at the joy of living
the free life of the daring,
of a need so carefully hidden.

Ryan Stone

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