I.
We orbit each other reverently,
surrendered to the pull and tug of nameless forces.
Giving roundness space and planetary movement,
grace.
I don’t need to force, make, or break away.
This is pleasurable
without my mind making plans of things.

II.
Flow.
Down the river of silver.
Toward the moon energies
that hold sacred desire in the heart
and commune with Sirius.

III.
Mother, O Mother.
Blessings shaped in Your arms and my soul,
wrapped in sweet pinks and gold.
The obsidian mirror carries well against midnight—
curiosities,
and the flood of words taking hold.

IV.
I am the angles I see.
I am the emotions of the past
a moment more, then released.
I am all of me—refractions of light joined,
the center of the wheel,
healing every spoke of my soul,
all lifetimes, eternal.
She is the gift of wing from water,
somatic release’s ecstasy.
Austet found me
where no one else could reach.

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