Ancilla

Tiphareth

I'm staring at his eyes, because they are stars, and I'd somehow missed that before. They mesmerize me with their light.

   Shining. Dancing. Full of the fire of eons.

   "...Come back. Can you hear me? Attend. Come back." He grabs my chin and holds me fast. "Can you hear me now?"

   I flash agreement with my eyes. He's used the language of instruction, so I neither speak nor move.

   I can't hear anything but him now, now that he is touching me. My entire being is attuned to him. Nothing outside us exists. His hand on my chin is a promise of ecstasy. I want more. I don't want to let him go. Ever. I feel his being pulsing under his skin, and sense the passions he bottles up so well that he can't even speak them aloud; and a terrible, consuming guilt when he looks at me. I sense the pain of swollen hand joints, reacting badly to the cold, damp weather outside. He never told me his hands hurt him. Why didn't he say anything? I can comfort him; I can take it away. I know this, I know it as surely as I know the air I breathe. I reach for his hands, covering them with mine, and absorb his pain into myself, letting it soak me; then push, flooding the areas of pain with warmth and healing love until they are permanently washed away.

   The act arouses me. I want him to touch me more, and harder. I ache to be claimed.

   "...Attend!" he shouts. And then he sighs. "Sorry. Did not mean to yell... I think I might have demolished barriers that only needed a door to be cut into them. Your energy is a bit messed up. I am very sorry for this, my ancilla. I doubt it will be permanent, but let's see if we can't help repair the damage and get you back to the land of the living rather earlier."

   I let my eyes convey assent. Anything.

   "Let's work on grounding and centering. I think more meditation work would be useful now, too. It will help you find enough of yourself to rebuild your walls. They need to come back up; they're as much a part of you as anything else, and they seem to have been built largely of your will, and your will is... out on holiday, much farther than it has gone in the past." Almost inaudibly, he adds, "Part of your soul is wandering. The ancient Egyptians called it the akh. The name doesn't really matter, I suppose."

   He hurts. I can't bear his hurt. I take him in my arms and kiss his mouth until the stars shoot up between us and surround us and we entwine and become a column of fire. "Know this. Know me. Know that I love you. Now." I place my forehead gently against his and feel him in his entirety, feel him opening ever so slightly until his emotions flood me and I gulp them down in a torrent.

   He gasps as fire and flood consume us. We dance together in stars, now, a sea of stars.

   "Take me," I sigh. "Use me. I know you need it. I feel you. I feel your need. It's all right; I'm yours. I'm yours as long as you need me. I'm yours forever." Desire melts me from within. My flesh dissolves like wax. His hands are the only thing holding me together. Beautiful. He is so beautiful; how can he not see it? Melting, I'm melting. He burns. I dissolve.