The Wheel

  • WitchPetals

    In the winter, my beloved,

    when your blood runs cold from missing my heat,

    you will return.

    My arms around you,

    hot upon your icy skin,

    I will warm your cold, cold heart,

    (its drum beats slow and faint).

    I will wrap arms and legs about you

    in a lovers’ tangle.

    As Isis and Osiris,

    we will worship one another.

    In the spring, my beloved,

    as you thaw, ever so slightly

    to my touches,

    my warm tongue mingles with yours,

    awakens your palate.

    Wet kisses upon your countenance

    energizes your spirit,

    stirs the passion of your mouth.

    I run my hands through your golden hair

    weave chamomile buds in your beard,

    you are now groomsman for Flora or Persephone.

    You are nearly awake, still cool to my touch.

    Think of days to come,

    when we will run hot like Pele’s fire.

    In the summer, my beloved,

    you are mine and…

    View original post 125 more words

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