Feast of My Throne.

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Love drips down my legs
Like a molasses wave that aches for the shore.
Slow, sticky and sweet,
My body longs for my lover’s hand
To caress what is no longer mine.
I have given my Soul
To Desire;
The Goddess’ tongue is now my own.
As he tickles my neck with passion,
I laugh,
Knowing love deepens over time.
He enters,
Slowly,
Asking permission with his tenderness.
We go within,
As I dance around him
In a Red Veil.

~From The Blue Oracle and The Cave of Woes by Amy Jones

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