“Take off your cross.”she says to the shepherd As his pelvis pushes her against a thrown blanket She pushes back and rises, “Take it off.”
Atop plush grass on rolling hilltop His hand rises to his neck And holds it in his fist.
His rise of Martyrdom is the plight of millions.. Their names are never sung through the halls Erected in his name. Their children never claimed.
Her hands under the shoulders of his cloak She pulls it off Her fingers sweeping the cloth;
“Don’t hold onto the promise of that embrace, Don’t be so simple! You were told and now you yearn for it. Its touch was supposed to be like silk! Instead it’s like this wool- itchy and in your allergy it cracks your skin leaving hives to redden and welt all over you. That is the sin! There is no room for that inside you!”
A penalty of corruption and rape and greed and the charred flesh of little girls all shoved behind a curtain of piety and moral compass and footprints walking beside you.
His body they feed to seagulls And like your lambs they shiver and shake As they catch the scent of wolves Carried on this mountains breath.
I A M T H A T W O L F!
I am the package left to haunt you. I am the sin they ward against. Her hands pull free the ribbons in her hair And betwixt the breezes touch - auburn tresses glitter from freckled shoulders her dress drops;
“In this monotheist nation- they would burn me. Take off your cross.”
His eyes touch hers then quickly look away. She reaches and touching his cheek whispers;
“Would you burn me? Take my breath away beneath moonlit clouds? Silence me?”
Her pale flesh glows in the sun - Kissed by it. And his eyes are so thirsty. Drinking in the sight of her full breasts; wind licked nipples perfect, pink and peaked.
Envy fills him as he takes in her thigh - her hip, her tender spots; like liquid brandy, he is heated.
Her hands lifted high She twirls and giggles,
“Should I feel shame for this vessel? For the desire it invokes, and the pleasure it Inspires?”
Her bodies full and flowing like rushing rivers and licks of waterfalls -
“With you, I am the wolf and the sheep. With you I am a lion and it’s ness. Feral lives inside me formed of cats and rats, wild and untamed - Predator and prey.”
She shimmers and the colors swirl about her. Her magic sings a story of love, of mothers, fathers, and lovers, Of giddy festivals and ethereal pluming smokes, With spirit faces glowing and growing toothy cracked grins.
She sings… The earth my womb, my body; your milk - The rivers my tears.. Her hand over his… The moon my lover… You my mountain.. You my god; I yours.
Let of us learn of each other Cool the lava rock of my ire and rage- “Their penalty; your temptation. Resist me then! I A M their vixen! “ Her hand over his- “I am God, perfect and incomplete.”
He yanks.. “Put your lips on mine.” He says, “I will make love to you.” “thump” as it falls.. “Let us finish this song, and take flight on phoenix wings, The sheep whimper, for they've caught our scent..” Ecstasy a cloud about them, birds chirp in reverence.. All the people who listen look up and smile A twinkle in their eye.. Yet, for a time… They will wonder why.
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