Poetry

Poetry :: Desire’s Worship

The following is what emerged when I woke at 5am this morning.  My mind wanders when I’ve less than five hours sleep.  What I shall henceforth call writing sleep depraved. 

My mind is ripe
with memories of
skin and sunshine.
The bend of her elbow
and knee and neck all
call to my mouth, shadowy places
where sensitive skin hides.

Bright yellow sun paints
my nape, cool fingertips
coil my hair round and round.
The skin on the inside of
Her knee is soft, a tender
spot that loves my mouth.
Higher my tongue pushes into
ribbons of salty sweet,
my just desserts.

On my knees in the sun,
held in, held on,
riding, guiding,
oh that tiny bead so
hard beneath my hungry, thirsting mouth.

My golden goddess spread,
wild-haired, creamy-skinned,
consuming my worship
Lost in my offerings.

Heathen, hedonist,
anointed one at her feet
priestess of the mysteries of
flesh and blood and bone.
Fleshy altar consecrated
let the ritual begin again.

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