I knew she was on her way, that’s my sixth sense!
Tingle it did as with her scent the air got dense.
Slow was her pace as she approached the alter,
on her lips a prayer not to falter…

With skill I arched her back, easing her to grounds below.
Playing a deity wishing my blessing to bestow…
Held my finger to her lips to calm her sound,
stripped her of garment for we were on blessed ground.

Like the old books I flow, telling of splitting her river n letting my people go!
She pursues my pace like a pharaoh, her breathing getting shallow,
her waves threatening to break my will,
as I whisper into her ear ‘peace, be still’.

Place her as a sacrifice, wanting to take her life twice,
so I tie her limbs as she whispers ‘nice!’
Moon turns to sunup as I seek to sum up the mash up
of the previous mischievous smack up…
Me, her, spiritual.
Come sun down, another ritual…

© jemedari