I will enter my lover’s soul
through the caverns of her eyes,
deep pools of blackness, gazing inward ---
this is the precipice and the lip of the abyss,
(can I face that darkness, that black hole,
bermuda triangle changing matter
I drank blood at her throat,
In trust, she offered her throat to me.
I could not stop kissing her.
Sacred Mother –
weaned on her milk, I drank her blood.
She has always given me life.
My fingers ache to touch her skin,
this long life lived within the aura
of her breath.
Even the air must quiver, taut between us,
like the string of a drawn bow –
where will the arrow fall?