by Michael Fantina

Out of the surf, out of the sand, I drew
The lacquered lamp. Its fine and arching spout
was worked with silver sigils used as grout
full-tinted with a cerulean blue.
My heart, an iron anvil, whispered this:
“Oh, genius of the lamp, if such you are,
Come forth, fire this dark heart, like some bright star
Or steer me to the wolf-headed Anubis.

And she came forth, her almond eyes so wide,
Her elfin form with flesh like cinnabar
So close, so close she stood there at my side,
The two of us alone on that sand bar;
“I will instruct you now,” she purred and smiled;
She took my hand; I am beguiled, beguiled.