A Neophte Poem by James McLain

Dreams of featers,
hung from peacocks naught.
Ones lips are sealed.
the other are always open.
Twins,
and both pointed ears.
Can not but help it too hear.
Standing upright marble blue veined face.
The breasts of the one,
searpants around come out in the open, hidden.
All the faces are cold nipples pointed like spears.
None borne forth have milk suckled.
Slender candle tipped the likes of which
pulled back in, being pulled out.
Running out of our tounges against whoms will.
Thinking you speak never have.
Masks between fire cold desire.
Quilled ink pink tip black peireced.
Token breasts would again be full emptied are.
Dark moody blues turning white
now black against between each falling star.
That which never is but was still queens.
Contrast never lost the blind being there have seen.
This dream to one by all whom hide inside
revealed to none but call to him in her dreams.



Aubrey Beardsley
Plate # 83