The Soul of a Butterfly

It was very dark in these woods but not threatening, the trees are friends of mine and as such do not scare me. The stars were very bright this night, the sky was clear and the air was warm. I took a path that was unknown to me but felt familiar in my treading it. As I walked this path, I could hear the night birds in their roosts and the padding of wolves. Wolves are beautiful creatures, don't you think?

Continuing on the trees around me start to thin out and the path widens. There's a small clearing ahead and its breathtaking in its simplicity. The grass here is lush against my bare ankles, caressing them as with a lovers touch.

In this clearing is a low stone altar of sorts. It looks like a long stone bench about the width of two men and longer. This altar is the only thing in the clearing I've reached, which is surrounded by trees. Running my hand over the surface it's very smooth and oddly warm for being so exposed and the dead of night.

I seat myself and notice only then the gown I'm wearing. It's very simple, a robe really, it's loose and long reaching just short of my ankles. Deep blue in color with simple sleeves to my wrists that are both covered in silver chain bracelets. There are no buttons or zippers and the neckline is low and rounded. Almost like a choir robe but soft and supple against my skin which brings to my notice my nudity underneath.

From the corner of my eye I spy movement from the opposite side of the clearing. There, coming through the trees is a man. Dressed as I am, he walks towards me with a purpose in his stride yet in an unhurried manner. I stand as he approaches and suddenly he's before me. His hair is to his shoulders and kissed by moonlight. I can see his eyes very clearly in the dark around me which does not surprise me for some reason. They are a mixture of green and brown bringing to mind the trees that are my friends. They invite me in and offer comfort and solitude.

He doesn't speak but takes my hands and kisses my fingertips. I don't know this man but my soul seems to recognize him and I close my eyes at his tenderness. His fingers caress my cheek calling to me with his touch to open them, as if he can't bear for me not to see. He leads me away from the bench and we're standing in the moonlight hands clasped just being there in the night together.

Then it shifts and he has a slender silver knife and a stone bowl in his hands. I am now laying on the altar and my robe is gone. The moonlight that kisses his hair is now caressing my bare skin. He dips the tip of the blade into the bowl, I've no idea what is in that bowl but the blade comes out wet and darkly shining. Stepping forward he uses the blade to paint (for lack of a better term) on my stomach and across my breasts. This touch is so intimate to me that I shiver. Soon the blade is gone and his hands are caressing me, they're sliding over and around every curve, tenderly and slow as if he's afraid I'll break, like I'm a fragile doll.

It makes me want to weep this tender love he's showing me, but suddenly it shifts again an his robe is gone and his hands have been replaced by his lips and his tongue. He's spread me out on this altar of his as if I were a feast for him to enjoy, and he does. His lips and tongue are suckling and teasing my butterfly, butterfly, that word resounds in my head in his voice (and I Know it's his voice even as I don't know why or how I know). Somehow, he's speaking to me as his mouth worships me.

It shifts again and he's standing before me as I'm spread in offering to him and to the moon and the stars and the trees surrounding us. There are eyes watching us from those trees, they belong to the wolves I heard before. No threat to us they are there as a show of their approval, this union is sanctified in some way with their presence.

Suddenly, he is surging inside of me, filling me with himself. There are tears on my face as the beauty of it all crashes over me and then we are soaring together. That's what it feels like, soaring. Like I've joined the stars in the sky and he's followed me, holding me, guiding me.

His head is on my breasts as our souls rejoin our bodies. My hands are holding him to me, stroking his hair, that lovely moonlight kissed hair. We fall asleep like that, wrapped in each other surrounded by nature and love (for what else could it be?).