Not Love, But The Vessel

Never had she stood in the presence of a man trembling.

He stood before her filled with earthly desire, offering his hand.

She started to reach for him, only to pull back.

He didn't want what she was prepared to offer.

Her emotions had been numbed by the force of her will.

He stood broken before her, lost to the sea she refused to feel.

She knew he needed transcendence; body, mind and soul.

Nude but not naked they stood, waiting for the other to choose.

She didn't know if she could relinquish control.

He prayed for her to find the strength.

Without him, she would never find peace.

Without her, he would never be safe.

Her lip quivered as the emotions began to pour.

His tears fell as he felt her strength.

Her hand trembling she reached for his hand.

His eyes searched hers making sure.

She broke the chains that bound him.

He fractured the shackles of her past.

She set her scarred soul free, urging him higher.

He freed his haunting memories, soaring to meet her.

Within her sacred embrace, she took him into her keeping.

On bended knee, he submitted himself before her.

Humbling herself, she surrendered to his will.

He took her into his soul, his for the guarding.

Love seared her chest as it streamed in.

Tears flowed as a devotion crushed him.

Purified, they lay entwined, naked.

It wasn't love but the vessel that was damaged.