As the day draws on
She strikes a fire
Pink and red candles
Project her desires
Flickering flames
Smoke in our lungs
Her dresser's an alter
Unto the Sun
Passion her offering
She straddles my lap
No need for instructions
Ancient writing, nor map
No day can be darkened
In the temples of her soul
Witches of the northern land
The place I call home...
Traveler Tim