Iris

I land on black island.
Iris Iceland,
Polar pupil,
Pupil taught
By the icing eye.
I, the Snow Queen,
Look and laugh
At the mirror-mired world.
A Narniac,
I sigh myself,
Crying whites,
Breathing frost.
I stain the mirror
With my winter scent.
Snow White, my sweet,
You’re grey and spent.
My vampire eye
Looked you dry
Then down I fell
In your Northern hell.
      -
November twice
The Great hibernate
A cave or a grave
Or a mirror, a mirror?
On the Sabbath I rose
And dipped in my toes,
All I could see
Was the glassy spring.
Swimming Sunday
I skated the sea
It’s the iris, petal,
My round Rose Red.
The Queen won’t suck,
I just want a kiss
Of your bluish lips
And your hungry eye.
I drink and splash
Near the godly gash,
My kingdom dot,
The great Ink spot.
Lightless lead,
Resist the pull
It’s lunar full
It shrinks and grows.
The spinning slows
As I keep my distance
Circle the dark
On melted snows.
The Empress glows,
Lashing back,
She coolly knows
That she’s doubly deific.
My rare blue rose
You’re royally right,
So we left hand in hand
For the iris.