Lavender Moon

(I wrote this poem as a part of the Bright Writing Circle in Austin, TX. It was based on a prompt. My prompt was holding and looking at a long, green leaf)

If I say I want you,

The double-edged sword of you,

Unfolding and permeating

Into my life, would you come to me?

And,

If I tell you that I discovered your scent

Quite by accident, and that it lingered

On my fingers long after we first met,

My nose the beneficiary of that bitter-sweet moment,

Would you let me pause here, long enough

To find you in the morning mist?

If I tell you I sniffed you out like the wolf maiden

Finds the scent of blood, a lusty thirst so salty

I can taste your sweat in my dreams,

If I confess that I’ve considered the ancient, secret arts

As I howled my praises for you to the lavender moon,

And threw a party so the lunar faeries would come

And dance around your stalks,

Caress the velvet-sided crush of your arms,

The strong and pulsing rush of your blood, purple and thick,

The green and longing leaf of your face,

Would you let me linger in the fragrance

Of your gaze, a maze of historical hurts reflected

In the lavender stars you wear as eyes,

Would you watch me love your secrets well,

And tell no one that I’ve bathed in early ages

In wine made from your saliva, fermented by the passion

Of your presence?

If I say I’ll rendezvous anytime you call,

Will you call anytime you want?

© Valerie Bridgeman

circa 2001