Holy Mandorla

slender curve, so light
painted fragile, private, night.
she sat by him invisible,

naked, in her sheer garment,
almost as if, she is not,
there. Are you here?

He wore his blindfold
His fingers slender
tracing music in the air
he said, perfume.

She raised her presence
Brought her lips close,
air to his ear, to say,
i am here,
but they did not touch
yet, nor did they share
glances.
He said again, ah, perfume.
smiled and asked,
Is spring already here.

After ages, Prakriti
She slept like a baby.

So much peace....
A kiss.

Holy Mandorla