We shall need

a very private
language for this.

Let us create it.

A language
for lovers,
not strangers.

We are those lovers,
supplicants at this altar.

These syllables
will bind us
in lovers knots.

The ceremony begins.

We shelter
in our bodies
holy flesh
steadily chanting
this communion.

Slowly touching,
slowly turning,
slowly burning,

we begin the dance.

We whirl
until we merge

and the magic
takes hold

as we pronounce

in sounds never
heard before,

the incantation
of a spell
that begins
with words,

but ends
in ecstasy.
   ~mce

The cold breeze pinched my skin,
as the moon appeared from between the clouds.
I was strapped down on a stone table
And the wolves had already started to howl.

From the shadows they came as a pack;
Hidden faces and black robes.
Holding the silver dagger of the snake,
they encircled around the table of stone.

Declaring the yellow moon as their witness,
in the bowl of terror, they lit the fire.
Then took a drop of my blood and chanted
"This is for the mare of the dark night"

The voices* called my name in the dark
I knew I had no choice left.
My whole body shivered and rose up in the air
I was several inches above my bed.

The shadow approached me and touched my lips.
I could feel every muscle tightening.
My heartbeat stopped and veins dried out
As it whispered, "Let the ceremony begin."

the ceremony is over
it was a perfect show