On Looking Into The Eyes Of A Demon Lover

Here are two pupils

whose moons of black

transform to cripples

all who look:

each lovely lady

who peers inside

take on the body

of a toad.

Within these mirrors

the world inverts:

the fond admirer's

burning darts

turn back to injure

the thrusting hand

and inflame to danger

the scarlet wound.

I sought my image

in the scorching glass,

for what fire could damage

a witch's face?

So I stared in that furnace

where beauties char

but found radiant Venus

reflected there.