The Nacreous Oughts

02 April 2009

"The Ivory Gates"

When i lick you
it is homage to the Goddess.
The pleasure flies up your spine,
you twist & moan, & the Goddess is well served,
but you are not the Goddess.
These temple walls have been here longer than the earth;
this bed is only given us for an hour.

So we divest of masks,
our names, our roles & offices,
why we have come, where we will go afterwards,
all our mundane identity; & we divest
at last, even of the mask of Desire.

Just to belong for a time in the sacred precinct.

As we shudder into sleep, rockingly soothed,
immense with ecstatic promises,
let it go unremembered
let it dissolve.
We cannot bear this waking knowledge
past a hazy somber longing
& mute poignancy...our cicatrized hands
blindly seek to clasp of their own volition
as you sit beside me in the car
talking of triple lives & the need for caution.


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