Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Holy Temple

Leave your shoes outside the door
before you enter the Holy Temple.
Only purity allowed,
Love by design.
No burning bushes,
no thorn crowns,
no regalia,
symbols or stories.

Strip yourself naked,
remove all layers.
He is waiting inside,
fragrant and moist,
promising ecstasy.
Hold nothing back.

Emptiness filled,
the desert blooms,
the night sky is filled with stars.

At last,
skin on skin.
Strong thighs
and that which can fill my Cup.
The yearning to become one
rolling through muscles,
up into bones,
ligaments, sinew and nerve.

I disappear

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