The Fires: Pre-dream

I should have been

at the Beltane fires.

I should have

walked between

this fire and that

high on the hill,

my hair wreathed

in flowers.

I should have

found my mate

among the throngs

over the rushing kine

through the mirage

of heat in the night.

I should have

walked away

into the darkness

to the stream's edge

and found

the mossy shelf there

to sit upon

and wait.

I should have

heard the susurrus

of his feet

on the leaves

behind me

as I thought

about the upwelling

that I could feel

all around me.

I should have

felt the whisper

of a tingle

slide down my arm

when he sat down

and his sleeve

brushed mine.

I should have

felt the arm

suddenly around

my suddenly

cold shoulders

and suddenly thought

all manner

of sudden things.

I should have

noticed the leg

now stretched

out along mine

as we lost

the fight to remain

upright in the world.

I should have

glanced over

his shoulder

to bare my neck

while seeking

the moon.

I should have

had the sensation

of electrified honey

running up my thighs.

I should have

been in the moment

the moment

that was the moment

the ongoing moment

the mo

ment

and the instant

instant

moment

instant

momentmomentmomentinstantNOW.

I should have

felt my arm

slowly losing

all connection

to me

under his weight

and slept.