The Tantric Priestess

¡Hola! Everybody…
I went out last night with my motley, seriously fragmented group of souls that I call my family. It was bitterly cold outside, but the warmth of unconditional love was worth it.

This one is mine…

-=[ Oracle ]=-

(A spontaneous poem)


She hid behind the corner
of a smile
I can never be
sure I saw.

Cherry-brown eyes
framed by delicately-carved
cheekbones to die for.

An aristocratic nose presiding
over a mouth almost too wide
for that delicate face
serves only to
accentuate an ethereal beauty.

Luminous golden skin lightly dusted
with the sheerest of cinnamon,
exquisitely rounded buttocks
and legs that went on
longer than seemed possible
would have been enough
for almost any girl I know.

Even being the
“Most Beautiful Girl in the world”
wasn’t enough for her.

Mere Beauty itself
fails when confronted
with the purpose
in those unbearable eyes
nor that carnally fashioned form
she wore so well.

No…

Her truth, her altar,
formed at the
juncture of firm thighs
where a sacred moistness,
a honey-sweet dew,
exists solely to quench
my lustful thirst
where the stuttering of my lips
offers prayers
from an unknown religion
to forgotten Gods.

— Edward-Yemíl Rosario

All rights reserved © 2008

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