Updated: Jun 11, 2019
Disposable people; we swipe left with our thoughtless touch of spite. An absence of Love to rewrite the truth of the magic of the night. Ashamed of our aliveness, that once blazed deep with our desire, We quench the embers with our guilt by stomping out the fire. We treat our lovers like a harlot, closing off the heart. The sting of withdrawal echoes emptiness as our energy departs.
Love is Sacred in its passion, the Creational eternal flame. When we honor the body as a Holy vessel, in purity there is no shame.
To experience the Beloved one must be enraptured by the trance. The eternal reflection of Source in another, life’s gift of the hallowed dance.
~Elayne LeMonde ©️Elayne LeMonde 2018
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