The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Washed Upon the Dawn

flutter of lazy eye lashes then
dips the soul in luminescence rising
sips the sacred cup of umber bitters
rips the harlequin from her fantasy
then girdles in thicker fabrics
the limb dangle finding its ignition
blue gas passion flickering to a roar
mentations sorted and folded neatly 
at the bed's end where we once more
baste in yolk or albumen our nacre mask
masked and now masking fully as if
three layers would gather what's absent;
no matter, cake on the rouge and pucker
for the quicksilvery mourning brook
and own no known ugly shadows unaltered

the undeniable effluence of light
bathes our sinsag in young nectar
rests our tongue on honey pralines
our temples gently rubbed to a mesmer
our astral sphincter loosens to a
swollen pussy sopping up the swallowed
spectral backwash of the unspoken tryst
while all color bows to the blackness
the virgin velvet initiation unhaltered

fluster of eyes poke through the clouds
frees the id to its naked leapfrogging
leaves ego tied up in soliloquies
steps through another torii gate
turns keystones into archetypal rubble
the stream catches its own vortex
as the elder flood forever pours over 
lubricating this path between the teeth
of titans throwing thunder upon itself
waste not the noon womb in want 
of seminal trigeminal tessellations 
and reap more than pareidolia pride
an emerald crown well burnished
placed down upon an unadorned altar 
arms crossed eyes closed unfaltered
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