The Ritual
Poetry — One of the oldest rituals since the beginning of time
When he looks at me
Tensions release and fire burns
With his eyes he asks the question
And with my hands I answer it
It begins like a ritual
We rinse each other
Of the constricting threads
Encasing our attentive bodies
We sway like cobwebs
Hanging from a branch
As the wind blows around us
We wind our bodies together
I feel the natural drumbeat
Of his heart pulsing against my chest
Like a river’s currents
Strong and potent
We swim in the moonlight
And come up together
Gasping for air
Only to go back down even deeper
Enrich me, fill me, stitch me up
And unravel me all over again
There is music in our hushed breaths
A warm stream of flowing melodies
And then there is satiated silence
A sense of comfort blankets us
Our hands lay upon each other’s skin
Every touch a scripture
