The trees sway,
an expression of a wild dance,
the ancient art of an ancient soul.
She holds his hand to regain some steadiness
her footing shaken upon the loose earth.
Coyotes howl to an un-shy moon,
baring all its brilliance,
emboldened, they grow wild at its nakedness,
pacing in circles.
In a similar frenzy she takes you in.
Tracing your steps, those places you’ve touched,
Un-shy in her mind
thoughts in circles.
Nighthawks trill cooing, long and enduring,
serenading the night
to not be afraid of the dark.
Calmed by your voice,
deep and cool,
She drinks it in, as seeping waters
fresh from a mountain spring.
Moths gently fall and lift
Alighting upon flowers in bloom
bathed in honey-dipped moonlight, they suckle at nectar.
Your sweat pools at the crevice of your parted lips.
“May I?”
An owl crosses our path,
Silent as our breathe,
its flight bellows upon our bodies with a cool caress.
She grabs you closer to share a radiated warmth.
Frozen yet burned
Scared yet pleasured.
Wild yet tamed.
Woman teaches man the ancient art of fire.
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Originally Posted by Shadowlight
