Lee Harrington - On Starry Thighs: Sensual & Sacred Poetry

NoticeOn Starry ThighsSensual and Sacred Poetry All rights reserved. With the exception of brief excerpts for reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, artist or their estates. 2015 Mystic Productions Press www.MysticProductionsPress.com 411 W. Northern Lights Blvd. Anchorage, AK 99503 By Lee Harrington www.PassionAndSoul.com All artwork by Abby Helasdottir abby.gydja.com Special thanks to Deborah Addington www.DeborahAddington.com ISBN: 978-0-9778727-6-3 Ebook: -ePub 978-1-9427339-9-7 -Kindle 978-1-9427339-7-3 -PDF 978-1-9427339-8-0

Poetry is a secret prayer, a passion, an obsession. It begins as love letters and displays of lust.

It bubbles to the surface as a form of pain processing or erupts like flames of devotion. Oracular downloads spring up like blossoms or feel like fingernails caught violently under a vice grip. This collection of work covers nearly twenty years of poetic creation. Some are barely touched from when they first came into being, while others have been worked and re-worked so many times that they are barely recognizable from when they came screaming from the womb of creativity. They are slices from my life or from the lives of the divinities I have been blessed to embody. They are gifts of inspiration from (and to) my lovers and beloved friends over the years, including my lover who is myself.

They are my vulnerable heart laid bare. I offer this book as a supplication, my dusty knees grinding into the hearth of mystery. It includes specific devotional prayers to a variety of deities, but it also holds a collection of erotic delight as well. It holds tales of my suffering and struggles with the hope that they will reach one heart to say I am not alone, for they have walked this road as well. Will you hold my hand and walk this winding path at my side? It would be my honor to offer this liturgy with you as my witness. In turn I will hold space for your invocation of dirty dreams and hidden fears.

Let these pages open up their arms and provide a safe space for you. They will not judge your veiled anguish and covert pleasures. At the end of the day, faith and desire are flip sides of the same coin, dishes best served in the same meal. Both call for passion, both call for soul. All of these things are mine; by handing this work to you, they become yours as well. Blessed be.

Yours in Passion and Soul, Lee Harrington June 2015 Anchorage, Alaska, USA

Temple within temple I welcome you Temple within temple, protections cast We turn We spin Writhing tentacles, writhing beasts Opening under the hallowed words Welcomed under the temple eye How does one reflect back Two days three nights work In words where you are there lapping at my thigh? I hand you my key Bind blood to blood, flesh to flesh Drinking deep Words flowing like the water you are Drinking deep Eye to eye and heart to heart Welcomed under the temple eye Measure me by weights and scales Measure me by my deeds and reach Measure me as we drink deep and measure once more Welcomed under the temple eye Open me into eternity We glimpse the water Finding we already knew how to dance I speak through the fractured mouths of a thousand caves shining brilliantly in the darkness reaching out into time let me touch upon the never was the always must be Visions come to touch my tongue a stumbling river rumbling across the stones of a crumbling edifice forgotten walls inlaid with the stories of fate forgotten to poisoned fingers and linen ligaments Yesterday we foretold a tale of broken hearts needful gods lapping at their ancient wounds voices heavy with rumors over and over again echoing across the empty plains Here we find ourselves find myself shuddering at your touch divinity reached its voice out through piercing screams speaking hear my words here my words torn open like a wound Turn once more to the temple oracle face the dreams we dared not dream once more we turn answering the call of what might be once more Wrinkles within wrinkles a star in each fold Impossibly young Beyond all reproach Eternally all ages black and starry skin You arc overhead You Once upon a time that was a time before time there was nothing except Her. Floating in the formless void in a nothingness in a black deeper than a sigh She floated eternal in Herself. She Star Goddess Starry Goddess blacker than a sigh. Floating in the formless void in a time before time the Starry Goddess gazed upon a mirror. From the nothingness She watched Herself saw Herself floating eternal in Herself. And She liked what She saw.

She breathed into Herself She opened Her eyes to the majesty of Herself the beauty of Herself the grace of Herself and became enamored. In the time before time with nothing but Herself and the mirror that reflected Her back She was enthralled. She was delicious and delighted. Her starry thighs and gasps echoed against one another in the void that was blacker than a sigh. Her skin blacker than a sigh took in Her caresses and caressed Her in return. Lover of self self-lover lover Starry Goddess sighed.

She roared and bucked against the blackness. She felt Herself full of potential full of bliss full of truth and possibilities. She tensed up arched Her back Her long star-filled locks flowing down Her body. She arched and cried out let fly the stars from Her being. In Her waves came forth the constellations. In Her waves came forth the nebulas and galaxies.

In Her waves came forth the dust and dreams. In Her waves She came and we came forth. Once upon a time in a time before time She floated in the formless void. In a nothingness in a black deeper than a sigh She floated eternal in Herself. Until She sighed She moaned gazing into the mirror. Self-love is an act of creation. Self-love is an act of creation.

Each caress an act of devotion. Starry Goddess, Star Goddess Let kisses fall upon flesh peering in the mirror of self. Let hands stroke and probe knowing this act to be sacred. Giving self to self in a time between times. Giving birth to reality with every sigh.

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