Beltane

(11 Oct 1997 - to GCS)

Point of balance:
A body suspended,
wrists roped
with loving precision;
thighs spread,
almost on tiptoe;
flesh marked,
a rosy map
of the ways of desire.

Point of balance:
The fire rises,
dances, dapples
the flesh
with patterns
of brightness and shadow,
spices the breeze
with smoky incense.

Balance point:
Is it your flesh
or mine?
Does it really matter
whose sighs, whose moans,
whose hand wields the whip
with such tender skill?
The same nakedness
we offer each other,
the same power.

Point of balance:
This holy night
between summer and winter,
darkness and light
(the darkness of the mysteries,
secret dreams,
the velvet shadows
that render the light
all the more brilliant.)

Balance
of will,
of devotion,
of hunger,
a moment suspended
between two breaths,
between one loving
stroke and the next.



Back to Free Reading