She clothes him in my nudity
shrouds him in my tumbling hair
and her touch burns pink
like candle lit kisses.
She breathes in cinnamon
she’s fiery and warm, her cold thawing passion
washing his unholy hands and feet
with my presence.
She worships the moon
and the sun and the stars
when they do and do not shine
secreting within them my wishes and rhymes.
She consumes all she touches
to give birth to the earth again
except now each river and midnight
glisten with my smile.
© Kristiana Reed 2018