Taming the Light

Blackness
Darkness
Lightless

Even before the first star was born
I stood as a signet
to the first thought
the first word

In my birth
he was inside me
growing with me
until he expelled himself

nursed in the fullness of my deep
he became full and fat
fed from my mind
he became long and lean
and in the fullness of time
he became

Effulgent
Luminous
Radiant
Brillant
He became my equal

My power aroused him
he sought to claim me
he held me by my throat
pinned against eternity

I growled
and time began
We rolled over the darkness
until all things were created
Light inside the darkness
as one

He Said

There is a knock at my window
2 stories from the ground
I wonder who
It is a messenger and a message
 I listen

Candles lit
I'm not much into that but
they invoke a spirit
which sits with me until tears flow
after the numbness eases it went away
 I listen

He said
he'll make love to me
to the sounds of
wind whispering through willows
I close my eyes
 and I listen

Worship

Everything you are
I want to feel

You are still my muse

My lips
arms and thighs
stretch open to invoke you to come closer

Place your glory above me
so I can whisper prayers in your ear

My king
My lord
My god
fall over me

Enter your temple
so I may worship you

Everything you are
I want to feel

Come into your temple
so I can whisper prayers in your ear

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.