Moonlight Worship

by Stephen Petluk

The moon glows,

a golden orb,

masked by black leaden bands of cloud

in a dark silver metallic sky.

I stand, meekly

as in a church of open fields,

black trees twisted columns of darkness,

supporting a shining dark sky,

a dome of gleaming liquid metal.

Before me stands a sacred grove,

dark and monolithic in moonlight,

forbidden, enchanting.

On a night breeze floats the faint whisper of a song.

It draws me into its soft breathtaking beauty,

captivates me,

obsesses me.

The Goddess calls me to worship as her song crescendos

and I answer her with my heart, a drum beating thunder

running, headlong into dark woods,

forsaking love and life itself.

In a clearing bathed in golden moonlight,

she appears before me,

a dream of soft perfect skin glowing,

her hair, a soft red halo

of a dying sun,

a fire floating in an aether of her song.

Eyes burning, liquid emeralds,

melting me where I stand,

panting.

Shivering.

She comes to me demanding,

long supple fingers force me to my knees compelling me,

to submit,

to kiss,

to worship deeply in light musk of her salty nether lips.

Ever so slowly,

gently,

my tongue circles her center of power.

Compressing her being into a small mound of flesh.

A pink riding hood of desire.

a singularity ready to explode.

Burning below fire.

I lap and suckle at her singularity, her essence,

and drink the nectar of her desire.

Her song of pleasure a rhapsody, building.

I find her rhythm

and in iteration after iteration

her back arches,

hips buck slowly, hesitant,

taut cords tighten still further, an endless knot.

Needy hands clasp the back of my head, pulling in.

Her climax, stars bursting

a newly discovered force of nature,

burning ocean waves crashing.

Her power is mine.

Forever belongs to me.

~gentle fury