Making Luv

Your alabaster skin shines with an ethereal beauty, the Goddesses envy. Your eyes, piercing my Soul with such intensity, that when your body arches your eyes roll back, their whiteness unrivaled in creation, reflect and absorb. Glistening gems refracting the prismatic frequencies of colors seen but not meant to be discovered. Yet, unexplainably simplistic, a dulling egg shell matte toned page of children's construction paper. Weathered over the years to an extent that a mere glance, and one thinks it to be a poorly pressed and uncared for greying sheet of felt. Quivering gently, with arms thrust to your sides, parallel with the base of Malkuth. Moans of blissful, untainted purity, part your lips, just enough that exhaling involuntarily, your essence submits the soul. In whispy playfulness, your soul dances forth. Leaping from your lips with an unwaivering trust, soul twirls into the protective masculine arms of your Eternal companion. Step, 2, 3, 4, and 2, 3, for-ward you are led. Intuitively recalling, implementing, and performing a dance you forgot had been forgotten. The choreo carrying you across the Cosmos. In a single pirrouette, the lead hand retracts, and as your soul steadies, halting abruptly but with smooth natural closure, you behold the face of the Divine. Collapsing upon my chest, you gasp a breath, not similar but a pristinely cloned gasp, of your first breath of incarnation. You weep. Recognition it was nothing more than your reflection amidst the eons.