The Mistress Nile

Hemmed in by terrain that glitters
like a dagger skimming the edge of blue silk,
her wanton figure stretches out before me.
I itch with curious desire
to slide my rough hands
into the grain of her golden depths,
to explore hidden secrets
promised beneath soft curves.
Fascination flickers beneath my eyelids
as I search the contours of her body,
mesmerized by the way she moves,
like a woman lost in herself.
Given to passion, the woman
becomes a fertile plain.
Blessed by Hapi and Sobek ,
in the crevices of her valley
she protects and nourishes
the life she issues forth
from her once barren womb of sand.

A woman with a wicked temper
she rages and howls at the life in her belly.
Irritated by expectant faces that pluck
at her feminine fruits like
the grasping fingers of an infant,
she rakes gemmed nails across the face of Man
with her sudden storms, the same way
a mother subdues her unweaned child
that cries for her breasts.
Stripped of her papyrus skirts,
Like a flower baring its thorns
this mistress blooms promising life
only to drown it in the folds
of her mud-encrusted dress,
leaving her burden in the care of Anubis .
Leaning on Osiris� promise  as if it were a crutch,
I settle in the niches of her sides
loving her for her deceptive maternal beauty.
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