Conjuring Love

When a man offers orchids
he intends to seduce,
for their shape is reminiscent of
the womb.
If he intends to mine
the mysteries of the deep
and discover the hidden folds
of my soul,
he should offer Lilly of the Valley,
for when moonlight
shines upon them,
the nightingale croons
sweet songs of love.
The effect is
eternity pulsing through my veins,
reverberating in the resonant chambers
of my being.

If a man strokes only the back of my hand,
he signals a limit to intimacy
but if he overturns and exposes
the softer flesh,
pressing palm to palm,
weaving fingers:
there will be no limit
to this quest.

How lovely are we
sweet creatures of divinity,
our souls are not separate
from our flesh,
and so,
as a holy consort of love,
I offer my heart, my chalice,
filled with the elixir of life,
as a sacrament of commnuion.

If a man is a poet, philosopher, or mystic,
he will know
that because we are all one,
when he loves me,
he loves all humanity.