Not outer, well I suppose you could – but a poem that touches on space, openings, distance, size. Mine is about the small space/span of time of daybreak.
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Aurora
Aurora sways,
arising in the first blush of dawn.
I see a chalice made of petals
and brimming with nectar that shimmers
like radiant diamonds melted.
My throat clenches in sudden dryness
and like a serpent’s, my tongue flickers out to taste the air.
Lips the color of coral part in a moist, breathtaking smile
and even with such space between us,
I am rocked to my core.
Curves swirl
- and twirl,
- slow
lazy,
as a ribbon
falling through the air,
and as my avid gaze travels the valleys and hills of my Goddess,
I feel both graced
and diabolically rapacious.
How I long to pluck those petals,
savoring each one as if it were my last meal.
I will devour the Lady,
consume the flesh in a torrent of nips and bites,
drain the elixir in leisurely, tender sips.
Decadence such as this sets my blood to thunder,
my body to fever
and I move forward,
- reaching hungrily,
ravening for the beauty before me.
It is a futile chase, as always.
Every step forward pushes Aurora back,
my Star simply scintillates in silence,
smiling when I collapse in defeat,
kneeling in stardust strewn by my Beloved’s passage.
My hands scoop up the cool, crystal leavings
and rub them into fiery flesh,
seeking to quench the thirsty bonfire at my center.
Like yesterday
– like every day,
I fail utterly.
Aurora has conquered me again and knowing this,
brightens until tears stream from my beauty-blinded eyes
and my Flame is all I can see then fades.
I remain,
locked in slave-like adoration
and begin my daily penance…
