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Click herelittle black marks
on a field of glowing white
lacking breadth,
depth,
and meaning
singular mind
arranges the marks
in sequences
the world has never met
freighted now with import
the marks are cast
across the globe
unerring to their target
the marks reform
in mystical alignment
fired by electrodes
and liquid crystals
runes pierce cornea
flash along optic nerve
shiver through neural pathways
synapses fire, voltage amplifies
the runes' commands
race to farthest reaches
of the intended ones'
vanquished frame
alone in his room
he feels the press of lips
whose mistress dwells
half the world away
incorporeal fingers
stroke the length
of his relinquished body
require him to writhe in ecstasy
pulse quickens, loins stir
and weep with joy
in the sorceress'
unrelenting thrall
meaning multiplies
intensifies
lust twines with love
to explosive effect
when compulsion subsides
he mistakenly thinks
spell is done, storm is over
once again he is self-possessed
she knows otherwise
his thoughts may be his own
but steeped in her
filtered through her spells
he views the world now
in an otherwise light
his heart completely remade
most of all, the difference is
he knows he belongs to her
but once I grasped the meaning of the "little black marks", I enjoyed the oblique way you approached your theme. As your prose makes clear, you're a fine wordsmith, though with this one, you could tighten up the melody and rhythm just a bit. Not as good as "Tempest Done", but still enjoyable.