Idiot

Adventurous hair,
Shining all red
Like fireworks drawn to a coil.

My eyes had to stare,
Sight did embed
The image in memory soil.

With iris of blue,
She could have crushed
The world by chromatic compaction.

(What can a world do?
Fight would be hushed
If charm coaxed a willful inaction.)

Limbs thin as a dream
Pulled by the urge
To save what the mind made when sleeping

Gave earthly esteem
Fabulous surge
For beauty the Earth had been keeping.

My heart pumped her name.
Breath rose and fell
To know in what way she was scented,

And brain did not claim
Means to foretell
Which plan could leave doubting relented.

I prayed I might feel
Her lips on me,
Make slip so bereft of thigh valley,

Alas, my true zeal--
Hard not to see--
Botched pinning her down as a tally.

"That Rod of Despair,
Laughingstock flesh,
Containing the blood I won't leaven,

Should stay in that lair,
Razored by mesh,
Be barred from the entrance to heaven."