On The Tongue of Midnight

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect." Anais Nin  
   
   
   
   
I stand on the tongue of midnight, skyclad. Entertaining a wicked delight to frolic with the Gods of darkness and plight. They wisp amidst this ancient forest. Entering and exiting my exile through a pallid veil, rising quick to scourge their fevers upon the frail.  
   
    
      
I face the winds that dare to kiss my skin, when I feel him enter in. A shadow of many charms, expertly flirting with fertile words. He is a stranger in my land with a fervent need to caress upon a silken sheen. I ponder him with my fingers pressed to lips, breathing deep.  
   
    
      
He scours not my flesh and bone. Not yet, for now his heady touch is a mere breeze that chills my very soul.  
   
    
      
He speaks the language of the Moon. Expertly pressing, and charging his lunar tongue.  
   
    
      
An immortal sheltering in a canvas of flesh. Manly, and strictly executed with a blaze of sun, he is a darkened bronze. I think he is unaware of my presense, jurisdiction and flare, but I can't rightly swear.  
   
    
      
I move about the foliage thick, watching close his movements. They're so distinct, I chance to even blink. I lavish long the thought of having this exquisite creature for my own.  
   
    
      
Shall my dawning array tempt him to stay? A childish contemplation.  
   
    
      
Enough mindful play! I step forth from my hidden ways with my enchantment now openly displayed.  
   
    
      
His shadow swiftly meets my stance then slowly his icy touch advances along my weakness. Neath the willows weep, his shadow creeps further and deeper inside of me. My body falls slack, everything fades to black. A God has touched upon this fruitful act.  
   
    
      
   
    
Lying hidden in a field of poppies sway, I awaken to the heated light of day. Rising from the slopes afar, a palace stark and tall. I ponder his world inside, where secrets come to live and die.  
   
    
      
I will certainly find myself enlaced in wanton, while gently stroking my fingers along his massive door. Begging to have him, just once more.  
   
    
      
Yet always just once more. I close my eyes and listen to the voice inside.  
   
    
      
Powerful is the price for playing with the Gods of darkness. You'll forever be covered in blanket of hungered suffering.  
   
    
      
- A tear reflects the pain. Yet, my smile remains.[/font]