My Bed has Become an Island

My bed has become an island

We are washed ashore there

Ragged and drenched

The pounding surf recedes

In our ears birdsong reminds us 

We are alive

In ecstasy we clutch the ground

The blanket folds

Wrinkled sand

Kissing your mouth I kiss 


And she is here 

Divine mother gathering us 

In arms of light

We pull each other beneath the shade

Of an Indian-almond tree

Enraptured by the mirror 

The tender certain courage

The water dries leaving only salt on our skin

We are free to love again

As if we never loved before

The wounds unwinding

They were only a dream

And here in the lap of God

We dream anew

By queenofelves

Writer, artist, and magic-user. Lover of fantasy and romantic poetry. Always exploring!

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