To Order Disintegration

Here is Mystery

We serve the Queen’s
Tea with equal parts
Order and Chaos

We hide in the birth canal
Snuggling into a pain
We know

Pale in her full moon bath,
Nude among the lotus
Each month she
Orders Disintegration

Each time emerging
A translation of
An ancient spell

We cook lamb and mint,
Strawberries and pour red wine
For her Hot Date
With Mystery

The court whispers, peeking
Through the door, “Will they
Finally make love?”

She wipes her lips
And leans to her, “Do you
Want to fuck?”