Her Rituals

Her soul, she wears with tender wounds,
Her body, borne like a waxing moon –
A beauty blinded by light’s reflection,
Deepest yearning, a secret predilection
In tumbling equations of sensual mirage,
A ceaseless longing on her sorrowed visage
Pleading whispers of silken allure:
Love me immortal, render me pure.

Her smile, a covering like a wedding veil;
Who, in truth, could ever uncover
Her essence, her source, her solar sail
Quite like The One, the sacrificial lover?
The ravenous rapture of the wedding night
Undressed and ravished by hands of chance,
Mournful taints in her eyes, less than bright –
Knowing this is not destiny’s final dance…

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

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