Labor of Love

I took a slab of lifeless stone
stood with chisel held in hand
thought about my life alone
and let my heart take command.
This hammer clangs, as I perspire,
with ringing echoes of desire.

As the outline slowly forms
unworthy fingers gently caress
the fractured rock until it warms,
ardently trying to express
my less than sane expectation
to somehow grant it animation.

Halfway done when suddenly
she seems to be a bit more real,
I know it’s just a fantasy
yet sometimes I could swear I feel
dark orbs intently watching me,
pleading for a chance to be.

Bathed in Luna’s silver glow
I pause to take a needed rest,
all rules of nature I forego
and scream out loud a bold request,
“Please grant life to my creation!”
then, I feel a strange sensation.

Her smooth midriff starts to shimmer,
pulling back to form a hole,
within me I feel something glimmer
and I know it is my soul,
half of which I freely give
so that my dream can finally live.

Lying face first on the floor
I wake up a bit diminished,
obsidian eyes calmly implore
and I can’t halt until I’ve finished
my labor of love, she must be freed—
never scorn the power of need.