by Kathryn Thompson*
Bring me your shattered mind,
your bruised and battered soul,
and lay your weariness across my lap
like swathes of silken cloth.
Let me stroke the worn tapestry of
your torn misery.
My strong smooth thighs hold you
as you turn your face to nuzzle
deep into my musky darkness.
The ancient call and response
springs to life once more,
your yearning, my wanting.
I stoke your head and press you to me
as I flow into your hungry sucking mouth.
*An over-educated expat Brit, artist, poet, writer, etc, living in the Northern Territory, Australia (28 yrs with brief interlude of 2 yrs in New Zealand). Worked in Aboriginal education at the Red Centre for 25 years. Currently, working as a counselor and therapist.