Megan (forestwhisperer) wrote in sacred_sensual,

Rains Release

Silver droplets of rain
quivering at the tips of my hair,
wetness streaming down
the smooth skin of my back,
I pluck an a blushing apple
shining from the tree,
and my mouth tastes
the sweet summeryoung flesh,
wet with the water
of a thousand evening prayers.

My tank top clings
with thin desire,
and my breasts reach out eagerly
to the enveloping downpour,
longing for this kiss
of electric serpent tears
that strokes my skin
through ardor-dampened clothes.

For several dark moons
my womb has secluded herself
with solemn chants and fevered fasts,
mourning with the parched earth
barren with drought.
While the sky has withheld
its glistening song of laughter
I, too, have shed no drops
of crimson moon rain.

And now as the sky
finally flings herself open,
pouring and pouring,
emptying herself out,
my own dark sky
opens in empathetic joy,
unfurls in the sensuous caress
of her dusky showers,
and I am washed away
in the arms of her shining embrace.

Poetic only because it is true--I haven't menstruated for months while this drought held power over the earth. With the rains that have been falling for the last few days, my cycle has been released again.
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