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her doors open to him
her doors open to him, he studies
her beauty reverently.
cathedral walls forming perfect archways
soft, silken, sweetly scented.
windows of light framed
in softest black glimmer
peach, pink, deepest crimson,
playing hide and see with
shadows hidden inside her walls.
kneeling in prayer, he crosses
himself and
folds his hands,
placing them gently on her altar.
lush and luxurient,
her white satin cloth unfurls
for him.
he begins to pray silently,
at first
an intimate whisper,
he grows fervant, feverishly
seeking response.
he speaks in tongues
tumultous and tumblant,
warm, wet, whirling, welcome.
faint whimperings force
to fierce wailings.
his goddess answers.
He’s a lucky guy to have a church like that, and his own goddess; one could fall in love there. I hear a faint call, perhaps my own goddess calling...
I might suggest:
(keeping the ‘ing’ and deleting the ‘and’)…
“kneeling in prayer,
crossing himself,
folding his hands,
placing them gently…”
Wow! The way you make sex into a religious experience is absolutely incredible. You are wonderfully creative.
I really like you stuff. I've rarely had anyone hold my attention more than one of their posts. I catch the feeling you love the color red,pink.