by Mary Kennelly
I was surprised to discover that even as a Crone
those fiery parts of me have not been totally undone.
It seems that I can be drawn into pleasure’s sweet distraction.
Your absence from my bed fires my blood and fills my dreams.
And I find I can still yearn for the taste and the touch of you,
And long to see a fire that I have lit behind your eyes.
I can ache for you to break me and then re-make me new.
I can desire to be the place where your thoughts go.
I can be greedy for your heft and for the heat of you,
For the simple joy of reaching out and touching you.
I only wish I could weave another world for you and me,
Where I’d set aside the Crone and let you see my truth.
Because it is in your absence that I can finally see
How much the Crone commands the Maid, the Mother and me.
© 2022 Mary Kennelly All rights reserved.
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