Dream

With intensity I have learned to glow.
Sweetly bitter, articulately poignant,
I've dug a grave and laid my past to rest.
Ears pricked, I scent the winds of change again.
Head turned into the light breeze,
I close my eyes and wait, patient beast.
Muscles coiled in ferocious intensity,
the restless huntress arises within.
At rest, but never at peace.
I've heard the call after an eternal wait;
in my minds' eye a vision rises.
With ferocity, intensity, passion,
I worship before an alter of darkness.
He is there in all his magnificence as always,
though I can never see who he is.
King, lover, master, lord.
My only equal.
Wielding rod and flail as only he knows how,
communing, demanding, understanding.
Knowing.
He lovingly caresses me as no other has before,
innately familiar, instinctively aware.
He deliciously, expertly, maps a journey of flesh and mind
that plunges deeply, thrusts to my very core.
The depths of emotion know no bounds.
Cry out in joy and ecstasy, pain and fear,
whilst tears freely flow;
opened fully in surrender and supplication,
whilst laughing with abandon,
yet writhing in agony.
Lust.
Lines blurred, edges fogged.
Terror.
Relief.
Catharsis.
Bodies and minds meld into one whole,
a temple worthy of worship,
a world existing only in our minds.