Soft Light

Here’s a silken
shaking light
through beads of sweat,
here’s throbbing dancers
dark in corners – caught
in time drawn by your threat.
They claim no reverence,
or knowledge,
of your fears that need no name.
For the sacred
are but captives
in this land they call the same.

In the shimmer of the moonlight
in the shining of the sun
which bears reflections
when they meld
and join
as one…
This is where all darkness
comes to hide –
where fear is thought to grow;
so our body sweat
still glistens
from a deep-felt naked glow.

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