Gift Exchange

I want to dance for you,
move my hips is slow tantric circles
of ancient rites that speak to liberation.
Above and below you. You I would seduce
in ways that the ancestors of my
ancestors learned from their mothers
before such knowledge was forbidden 
by men who feared its power. 

I will draw the insolence

of the moon
down into my womb

and make our combined ardor

open portals into that other
existence where

we simultaneously live now
in past and future incantations.

 

My heart is a vast sea;

I will let her tides inundate

your existential crisis and reactivate

your wonder with effluent as salty

as my sense of pride. We can both

awaken sleeping water dragons

with the milky pathways

from your gift exchange.

Can you learn to dance to the rhythm
I sound out on your body;

words I create with my hands,
physical touch, using mouth and tongue?  

If we compose a cadence

whose resonance 
drills a bore through the earth

with defiant, unrepentant passion,

who is to stop us from robbing 
all the riches form the hoarders of life
who would say, we never deserved 
to have them? 

 

 

 

Author's Note

picture is my own artwork. poem inspired by a dream. and what a dream it was

Reviews

[Jibey]

What a dream indeed! This writing has such a gorgeous erotic edge. It was soaked in deep natural imagery, particularly of the profound effect of the good old moon. It seemed that the dancer conjured up revival and arousal, so that, like the butterfly in your artwork, soft delicate beauty emerges from a dry chrysalis-like state.

A beautiful sensual dance.

(Typo in third line from the end - form instead of from)