Year of yin: giving over

April leaves me in bed with those welcomed weary aches and pains of a body well lived in. She has been rough with me digging her nails into the back of my half heart excuses, pulling out fistfuls of inspiration, kneading my insight, chewing up my expectations, and pushing  wonder down my gullet. Painful ecstasy. Perfectly gruelling. Punishing gratitude. Her lips lock around the neck of my exposed fears sucking out my life’s blood. We stain the sheets moon red. Plunging deep into her hidden mysteries, finally I am lost again, uncertain fingers trace the way home. Fumbling in the dark I yield to my tumultuous yearning, her echo reverberating through my spine, tension writhing. She keeps rhythm with my halting breath, guiding me into the revelation in her warm embrace. I knew she was coming, but I still could not imagine it would be like this. The next day she leaves me alone, undressed and undone in quiet contentment, collecting my thoughts in pools of our sweet love, sighing prayers; may humility over take me today and everyday.

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