A Lokean Devotional Vignette
“No matter what shape I’ve taken, I’ve always found a willing mate,” Loki says casually, glancing my way.
He knows his effect on me.
I blush, thrown into all sorts of imaginings.
My reaction encourages him.
“Midgard’s beauty standards are a dull illusion. Made-up rules where none exist. Variety is sexy. You are life celebrating in every cell, dear love. That’s rather hot, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
His words seep into my chest.
red nights
grown cold inside
limerence dies
so quietly
motion unwinds
i fall inside
outside
mind
arrested
in his kiss
hairs magnetic
lips slick
skin memorizing
blackberry kiss
crave-hunger
pounds behind ribs
lights my eyes
aglow, fixed
old white truck
dalmatian sprinkled
baked on asphalt
mileage broke
oil thirsty, always
and the stars from its bed
sex appeal, automatic
let out
for the night
wandering
hands, thighs, and breath.
flower hidden
crinkle tingles
prickle skin
shadow peak
sparking flint
romantic kiss
I burn
down
the length
of my body
fire
filters
through skin
Feathers
and
Arrowheads
both bladed
he said
catching in my chest
spilling me open
he tossed seeds
into rising night
I wore wishes in my heart
and kept stars in my apron.
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