venerer
“We have been raised to fear the yes within ourselves, our deepest cravings.”
Portal to the Divine.
My heart is a room filled with unsung secrets.
It is a maze with no end, a shape without countors. An enclosure that teases the Anemone, windflowers, to spread their petals and purr.
These delicate purple and red blushing blossoms decorate the doorways!
Each valve is an entrance that leads to the main chamber. There are many ways to enter. There are many ways to leave.
Each person I meet leads me to one of the openings, and I choose whether to unlock or stay fastened and closed tight!
Through him, I see so many coatings of myself that were previously hidden. Secreted away in the stirrups, I used to kick either side of the great stallion that pushes ahead! Running, galloping so fast at the breakneck pace I demand.
I love the ripple of wind in its mane where I’ve issued my hands to hold tight.
Tightness in some events is necessary; in others, it is an act out of fear.
Clinging to the horse that runs wild with the gale is essential. Attaching my person to people and places is unsuitable to what Life demands.
What I have experienced through him is more than I've been able to witness in my previous relationships. Owing, I feel, to where I am in my life. I have continued to step back with small steps so as not to trip. The further I move away from the thing in front of me, the more I am able to see my interest and interplay amongst the things!
I love the soft purr of my body when it bristles and brushes up close to the scent of a man. I love the longing, the throb of lust I feel deep down within.
I am filled with passion! Zest! Citrus fruits and the husk of ground cherry. Pink lips and a purple tongue. I spit seed to black; they are lost the moment they touch the earth. My wetness allows me to glide like seals on their bellies. I slap myself in the same fashion, a warning to watch for danger.
Clap-clap-clap goes the rain and the thunder announces Shiva. Something is dead and I must press it out. I take it in both palms and know that it is wrong. I set my hands in that horse's hair and feel its breath like the wind moving into me. I go where it goes, and from the mouth of the dark, bellowing sky, everything that is unnecessary is stripped away.
The sun is too focused for me to be free.
Only through the darkness, the lack of consciousness, can I purge with relief.
I can see the tunnel. It is narrow. I feel so wide. How to shrink to an acceptable size while offering the spirit the condition of the cosmos?
A mare knows it is not its body.
Sweet, suffering heart, how are you!
Photo source.
