By terry
Date: 30 June 2000
A Desert Night
Late to Bed
I enter the sacred chamber as an acolyte
Hushed and humbled at the affront I am about to commit
Uninvited, but summoned by a spiritual foreknowledge
She lies in the desert heat, sleeping fitfully, unease creased across her brow
And without thinking the back of my hand touches her cheek
Bringing a soft moan, only a whisper that echoes between my ears
The wrinkles smooth and a sweet smile ensues
As the heat of her dreams seep into my skin
Lighting a fire there with an ember of her soul
Without a word I sink to my knees in holy trepidation
As I touch my lips to the ruby wet vision before me
Clothed in silk and cotton and gossamer and sweat
And as I trace a pattern of electricity across breast and belly her eyes open
With laughter and fire, and swirling galaxies and a rock hard glint
That speaks of desire and need, but tempered by love and understanding
And by the cast of her gaze and touch of her hand to my hardness
Permission is given to worship my goddess anew
As if this were the first time we danced the dance of heaven instead of the thousandth.
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