The Need for Love

My need for love is holy.

Petals and Cake

I savor their smooth, enchanting feel as I delicately pull more from the white basket, whispering them through my fingers.

We balance the two extremes, Exaltation and Fall, Spirit and matter, giving embodiment and presence of the Divine through us.

I curl up in our cedar nest, feathered and dreaming—washed in obsidian night, I fly to You, always.

Vibrant blue became our value true. Cornflowers, bachelor’s buttons, trumpet blooms held between our palms, pressed for all their softness.

Her pink crown of flowers slips over skull, cascade of beauty and bone. Santísima Muerte Rosa. Her watchful gaze—You asked to love yourself.