she succumbs to sleep,
her surrender supreme
flesh loose and fluid
stripped bare by light too white,
her swan throat naked, gleaming, teasing
in supplication to the incubus
who surmounts her
ugly and smug
Maybe
this is not a tale of possession, but a vision of obsession, where
voyeurs of unrepentant greed slaver
over images like this
of women held siege by the thrall of sleep,
stretched out ripe and ready,
supple, pliable and nicely lithe.
visions of lustful need.a
Is this her nightmare or his dream?
Look again. Perhaps she lies in slumbrous ease
robed and draped, impervious to need.
deeply sleeping, withholding virtues and gifts
of which the greedy can only dream
supine, yet unresigned.
Possession denied.