In the dim twilight, my body stirs, awake,
hands trace ancient paths,
a sacred quake.
Underneath the open sky,
my body laid bare,
whispered hymns merge
with the cold night air.
I fuck with the fury of colliding stars,
each motion a rite,
breaking every bar.
Orbiting ecstasy,
I’m lost in the divine,
murmuring to the heavens
in every spine-arching line.
Skin to sky, I’m a conduit of fire,
every climax a chant, an unholy choir.
In the grip of passion,
I see the divine face,
in the pulse of release,
I find a sacred space.
Touch turns to power,
every breath a creed.
In the rapture of night,
I plant the seed.
Eyes closed, I reach beyond the veil,
in the garden of stars,
I fiercely sail.
As dawn creeps, my ritual wanes,
the universe whispers,
remembers my claims.
In the quiet aftermath,
I’m softly bound
to the echoes of the pleasures I found.