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Sunday, May 31, 2009



I call to my goddess:
come to me, undress me,
I am weary
from your long journey,
let me drink deeply
from your creation,
your heated skin
is my medicine

I promise no other's caress
will wipe the sweat
from my praying brow,
for I bow now only
to welcome your coming
my goddess
, I call ...

but there is only silence.
And it slowly kills
the believer when there
is no answer to the prayer
of love's invitation -
like a melody or song
left to hang in the air,
I call: come my goddess,
for I'm dying here

for nevertheless this
foolish faith still needs
its distant deity
to show piety: so I call:
come and be
the meaning to this
starvation's name, or be
like death and strike
without shame

come and undress me,
I am weary
from your long journey,
let me drink deeply,
your heated skin
is my medicine,
for I am your creation

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