(no subject)

[greensidhe]

rise,
oh yes
rise
sweet mother
moon

even
in your shadow
cloak,
I unravel
your secrets,
slip
beneath
the silence,
follow
the threads
of cicads
song secrets
to touch
that tremulous
ecastic
center
of
you,
let my fingers
remember
every valley
every rise
of this land's
sensual
body

for these mountains
are women
sleeping,
contemplating
languid
in their half remembered dreams
shoulders
and curved spines,
the swell of a breast
tantilized
by foliage

and I strive
to run my palm
over the humming skin
of the night,
drink the air
soaked with imagined clove
and honey

and I linger
to relish
that blissful
exhale,
that shuddering
sweet
sunrise
that follows
every
indigo
moonset