Do you really know LOVE?
Sex, she knew. Sex, She understood. But, sex was not Her. Longing, hunger, deprivation was not strange to Her. She understood them to the very depths of Her soul. Every barb contained in their arsenal had been waged at Her at one time or another but She was certain that She would survive. They needed Her. She was their Golden Girl, the sweetest high they would ever cop.
She supposed that was why it was always such a surprise when they discovered the truth. What She especially liked were the prayers. Oh, yes, they worshipped Her, they begged for Her. So many treasures laid at Her door, so many wounded souls begging for Her relief. She wanted that. Desired it deep within.
She had studied two of them once. They looked into each other's eyes, hands touching lightly. She could feel the heat from where She rested.
Desire had a scent and a sound and a look. It was in their eyes and they invoked Her. They had to be sure of Her presence in order to proceed with their actions. They professed in Her name their desire and the act made them think they were one.
Yes, they used Her name. But did not know Her. They cried together in each other's arms calling Her name with abandon. She smiled. She amplified their want, pulled it out like sweet . . . thick . . . taffy. A bond of emotion between them that She would exploit to their embittered ends
She enfolded them, observed them; they called Her and She followed.
He was a truck driver. She was a home maker. She made a home and he was never there. Yet, they overcame this and invoked Her ever more fervently.
She met a fellow on her shift at work while he was on the road with his truck. Now two professed admiration for the same woman and shouted Her name.
"See how they call me. Each one pronounces my name as if it meant nothing - calling me. Yet, they do not know me."
She was tough. No sentimentality, no sympathy. One man shot the other proclaiming in Her name that his woman was his own and not to share. And he called upon Her; shouted Her name to the sky as bullets entered his body and thick red seeped out. Her acceptance was paid for in full.
Another called to Her as She tired of the three entangled. A woman, young, alone, with a babe in arms. Oh, how she cooed and fawned. Her perfect angel, her sweetness, her light. The woman used Her name so often She felt naked before the babe and mother.
The woman gave completely of her heart. Dutifully, she sacrificed all for the babe.
After their years together in poverty and want the child blamed her mother and left the woman alone. Yet, did the mother call Her name, using it like a cannon ball against the child now grown.
She stood back and waited, Her gift was truly no gift at all. She turned from them; Her job at an end. For She was a teacher in the ways of the world. She knew - Love always knew. She understood how much Her acceptance hurt. What evils Her worship could bring a soul. She smiled as another voice called Her came.
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