On The Cusp...

I'm lying on the cusp,
darkness, daybreak,
wakefulness and sleep.

He unfolds before me,
tall, taller than my father.
A bare chest blazoned with a glimmer of steel.

Hair shaken, drifts across his shoulders,
my eyes wander and absorb.
He is beautiful, I muse.

Sinews stretched,
contours shimmer,
I gasp bewildered by my gaze.

Before thought, before breath,
As it reaches for me,
the bullwhip cracks.

Vibrations resonate,
forces throw me,
shaken I wonder what's occurred.

A third eye throbs,
waiting, anticipation,
words slosh like soup inside my mind.

Illusion dispersed,
reality reinstated,
Crack, the spell within snaps.

A chuckle breaks the silence,
"So, Do fish swim?"
This one does, it's free.