Beyond the liminal by Kathryn Thompson*

New World by Kathryn Thompson

 

Your large hands travel across
and around
the curves of my soft body,
your fingers trace a gentle glowing pleasure,

 

a curled, knuckled wake still trembles

 

long

 

after your touch has gone,

I can hear your breath,

honey tonal,

hear the moans.

our juices spread, sucked and licked.

Outside and closing the owl hoots

while we
bound by our history, finally entwine

 

upon the hallowed mattress of love.

The trickster smiles,
our hearts, red, dark suns, chthonic,

 

outside and closing the raven caws

 

as your fingers, like grace greet my skin
seeks the well,
spreads the lips,

 

and whisper profanities like a holy prayer,

outside and closing

the wild cat, upon the roof top, keens into the night.

 

My kiss
is just a shadow away, from the rise of your chest

 

I inhale your vulnerability,
breathe warm light upon our shared breath,

 

in you I seek extension,

seek solace, seek completion

 

and you will remain until I shrivel and slip from your sepaled embrace.

Hold,

don’t permit the diminishing,

 

the buzzing upon the liminal
the ritual upon the dream
the shining of stars, straining to align.

 

This chamber of tides,
I hold in the name of our love,

 

and outside and closing
the wild cat keens, the raven caws, and the owl hoots,

 

you the wingless angel, the only mortal,
to know my love.

 

The Gods always demand that I taste you first

… each and every time.

 

* An over-educated expat Brit, artist, poet, writer, etc, living in the Northern Territory, Australia (28 yrs with brief interlude of 2 yrs in New Zealand). Worked in Aboriginal education at the Red Centre for 25 years. Currently, working as a counselor and therapist.