(Oubliette.)  

Snow white skin
So perfect as to be unreal
Almond eyes of glittering emerald
Seen through lashes' bars and long dark hair

Ever watchful
Reclining in the swivel chair
Hugging her knees and smiling slyly
Like a little girl who's lost her way

I try to shake these mirages
The ringlets fall over an upholstered arm
And from the shoulders, impossible sight
Spread pale wings of the falcon's type

A phantasm, to be sure
But one in which I am consumed
Desire is lacking, there is merely wonder
As one who wakes up dreaming

Kafkaesque, Don Quixote's daughter
Birthed whole with seraphim's wings
She might as well be the demon of dreams
And her voice drowns out my own

"I am the one you are looking for,
The one you have forgotten
This is the Oubliette, sad, sweet youth
And I am the lock on the donjon."

This fey creature is the center
Without need of declamation
But living, breathing, like a normal woman
Neither wholly real or illusion

Her chin dips and her eyes are smoldering
Waiting
It is then I realize
I have been swallowed whole