Beltane

Into the blaze of the bonfire you started
I threw all my inhibitions, willing sacrifices
to gods I didn't know I worshipped
all caution flying with the sparks into the night.

I returned to those sultry days of youth, careless and free
exuberance abounding, greasing the wheels.
We offered each other what can only be called love
in the eyes of bystanders and acolytes.

You fanned the flames so effortlessly
as if I had waited all my life for this raw communion
where words are superfluous
and prayers to any number of gods
and goddesses are given freely,
laced with those natural oils
that ease the way of all insertions
scented with resins and incenses,
aphrodisiac-anointed, throwing spells
and hesitation to the wind.

The memories clamor forth,
overtake and overwhelm
nearly drown me in their potency
nostrils flaring, fingers clawing
body writhing
in pagan rites of abandon
to Eros, Cupid, and Kamadeva.

We both sacrificed something,
the charred remains crumbling,
its glowing embers riveting but unforgiving.
It is time to sacrifice again,
this time in sadness,
to the fires of May.