Her Gift

Cherry

By lenchenelf

Mon, 09 Sep 2019
  • 968 reads
2 comments
 

 

Embroidered veil dropped as a whisper,

ripples of shock fell heavy

with wave upon tumult of her hair,

loosed to fall, flow, unbound;

carpet their hallowed ground of masculinity.

 

Perfumed ointment was an afterthought

there to cleanse the dust from old ideas.

Certificate U
Poem
Lacework
Love

Comments

Submitted by airyfairy on

I like the way it shifts with those last two lines.  We're used to seeing this story presented as pure submissive devotion - good to see a different, beautifully realised take.

Submitted by lenchenelf on

for your warm and generous comment. It's a thought that had spent a few years looking to find its voice :)

Best Lena xx