The Medicine Man

The medicine man listened as I talked,

about happiness,

and troubles.

I talked of loosing faith and finding it.

He listened and threaded beads onto a long rope.

I bared him the scars on my skin.

he listen to how each was formed.

As he touched them, electricity shot through my skin.

Fingers war, and rough tickling the sensitive skin.

The medicine man listened as

I cried

and then laughed.

He watched as my ash covered hands wiped away tears from both.

At last covered in sweat and blood I was ready.

And lastly he kissed me upon the forehead, my hands on either of his thighs, my chest pressed against his thighs, his grip hard and reassuring.

At last he did what was needed. On that bare ground.

I watched now as he walked away, he listened as I called to him.

he listened to me- because now I was the medicine woman- and he was but a man.

Reviews

[Antoñyo]

Wow...This piece pulled me in and held me captive (not an easy task with ADHD patients)
I thoroughly enjoyed this, and there are hints of brilliance in ability here.
I'll be back

Thanks for the potent (100/100) share.

[Kat Leila]

Thank you so much!

[Antoñyo]

You're welcome.