Birth of the Sun

I press the moon between your lips
then kiss you with all the fire in my soul,
guiding the moon deeper, down your throat,
then chest, then womb,
birthing it anew from between your legs,
seeping a fiery liquid down your thighs,
a sun which heat gathers all the stars of the cosmos
in its own little palm.

Birth of the Sun, Freydoon Rassouli
Birth of the Sun, Freydoon Rassouli

3 thoughts on “Birth of the Sun

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