Man in Black

Swarthy as a Moor
eyes flintblack, coalblack, 
black as a winter sky
your gaze smoulders 
as expressive fingers silver-ringed
weave incantations in the air.

Silver glints at nose, at ear,
hair is shoulder-tossed, one long black coil,
a woven curl thick as plaited rope
back-twisted.

Unshaven chin moving, 
eloquence of tongue with words 
bladed like scimitars
a string of pearls between your lips
revealed when you grin
your voice a bold weapon
thrown and strong.

Sun in the brain burning in
enthusiasm's visioning:
the cold white of a winter moon
the hot orange of a desert noon
a treasure hoard of
mounted gold and silver gems 
wrested by your heathen hands
plundered from redwood chests 
hasped with brass.

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