Because he...

I can't seem to find his story anywhere.
His pictures elude me.
Still, I search for them.
I crave the visual.
The reminder that he is real.
I can't find the story of
the active yielding of his being to me.
He trusts in my power, my commitment, to hold his weight.
So, he relaxes fully as he enters me.
The pleasure of the pressures.
But, I can't find this story.
Not even the story of his call to arms
His belief in my power to defend by his side.
His knowledge of our expansion and elevation through righteousness.
He knows I am his wholeness manifested,
his image of two being One.
This story is not spoken for fear of our coming.
Fear. We are here.
Although, the story is occult, it can still be known.
It's hidden in the symbols all around us.
It's hidden in the coils of our hair.
The depth of space blended in our skin.
The natural angles and curves of our bodies which fit together so perfectly.
The story is in the symbols
The symbols speak of him.
So,I divine them to make him known.
Because he...
He is my beloved made manifest of my wholeness.
And I will tell his story.