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

and sigh

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.