Angel’s Honey Dust

one feather falls
from the angel’s wing
into my open palm
I dip it in honey dust
and brush her breast
a sweet taste
lips discover
on soft skin

for the first time
a new spirit
rises from
delicious oils
one breath
ignites a womb

We drink this delicate nectar

We hear music of bird and bard

We rejoice the sacred bond

dancing with angels
in deep rhythm
richer than azure
constellations rise
from the mendacity
of earthbound life
to love wholly
this Woman

born from dust
a dream of life
lit by chosen stars
and created
in tender union

A companion to Angel’s Metamorphosis:

image: Michael Parkes

9 thoughts on “Angel’s Honey Dust

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