On The Alter

Raw, brilliant light drifts down through the rafters from the long windows of the ancient turret, and into the pristine stillness of the pure white chapel below. Several rows of dark wooden pews stand as solemn witness to the small woman displayed before them. Fine blond hair falls softly across her lovely face, a damp whisp needing to be brushed from one of her pale blue eyes. Nearly naked, she is radiantly voluptuous. So quietly she lays, one leg just touching the floor where a heavy ball and chain are attached to its ankle. Her other leg is bent and splayed to accommodate her narrow hip, resting on the cool marble edge of the alter that her contoured back is draped over. Her quivering thighs spread, her arms above her head tied to a massive gilded cross,she looks like a golden calf on the banquet table of her King.
She watches as tiny particles float in the great space above her. She knows two things: that her body is a confession of her delectation for this vulnerability and duress, and, that when he comes, there will be a revelation.