This poem only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

Thundering rain against my skin,
Violent splatters slapping, stinging;
Black moon rising in the midnight,
Passions rent in the depths
Of your raging eyes.

Rolling tides and roiling foam,
Howling aches writhe blind inside;
Boulders of craving batter wind-scoured gates
To the sanctum of this wretched heart.

The maelstrom of longing crawls the earth
Within my locked and hidden soul;
You hold my being in your fist
And crush my desperation.

Deeper.

Yet deeper still.

Pounding force drives you further in,
Until no deeper plains of Otherworld may be reached;
Deepest, darkest,
Inner altar,
Where my screaming coils around your hips,
Where my terror is caught within the midnight snare
And raised up amongst the flint-sharp stars.

Your breath is my storm
As you pour liquid fire within me
And melt this virgin fortress into golden dawn.

This poem only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.