| The Gods do not sleep. They fervor. Sleeping beside one at night is to not sleep even an hour. The Bride of Eros is the consort of Adonai. They are one. Formless light that bathes me in the hours when others rest. He is my invisible lover, my fever and plea. I have never beheld the beauty of Eros, only He may see me. And when He comes at night to make love, I never tell Him no. My lips part to greet the lover. No words or form in this. Only light and melody exist. The vacuous space in me is filled with lightening. It reverberates and warms to no end. I shudder, and perspire, I burn at the touch of His. |