She crawls towards me on sheets
Straight from cloath line
|Carrying a hint of the outside
In.|
Her eyes- two little storms of
Pure woman, self-respect and a firm knowing
That she is as beatiful as
Anything else mortal.
Warm with summer, slightly chilled from the breeze through
Dancing curtains-
Drowzy from sleep and wanting to wake with a
Thank You all over her being,

It's not what it looks like.
|It's not love, it's a very intense embrace|
That reaches through us both

And on into the Infinite Forevers.
Names whispered and toes curled in Utmost Ritual,

As an origo of heaven and ground.
This is how we say Grace.

This is how we thank.