Libation to the doe Goddess

In the meadow’s molten aureole, beneath Sol Invictus’ blaze,
A forgotten feast of mortals lies, her ancient rite ablaze.
Clad in gossamer silk, veil of the civilized age,
Yet ‘neath it coils the scarlet thread, the doe’s secret gauge.
Fresh-shorn mound, tender as new-sprung fern in Beltane dew,
Each zephyr’s lick a horned god’s tongue, awakening the true.
The thunder swells within her loins, a storm no mortal chain
Can bind— she strays from linen shroud to the wildwood’s domain.
Amid the riot of wildflowers, priestess of the untamed green,
She raises silk like sacred veil, parts the petals unforeseen.
Her vulva blooms, quivering altar to the Great Mother’s call,
Exposed to vaulted sky, where ancient spirits thrall.
Two fingers, like antler tines, divide the living shrine;
A tremor runs, electric, as the golden flood divine
Arcs forth—a libation poured to earth, to root, to seed,
Warm amber river cascading, feeding soil’s primal need.
The red thong, sodden relic, slips down thighs of ivory gleam,
She lifts it to her nostrils—inhales the heady, feral steam.
Musky essence rises, wild as doe-scent after rain,
Her own urine’s perfume, sacred brew of lust unchained.
She breathes it deep, like incense from a censer forged of flesh,
The stag within her stirs, tongue phantom on the fresh-
Released warmth; echoes of the rut, where buck seeks doe’s trace,
Lapping golden sign of estrus in the moonlit chase.
Body arches back, bow drawn taut to Diana’s silver arc,
Quivers ripple through parted lips, near-orgasmic spark—
Not mere relief, but ecstasy of beast and goddess fused,
The animal unbound, the pagan pulse transfused.
Golden streams anoint the grass, a rite of fertile flood,
Marking territory, blessing seed in earth’s rich mud.
No shame in this surrender—only holy, savage grace,
The human veil dissolved in nature’s fierce embrace.
The silk descends once more, a shroud upon the flame,
But memory burns eternal: the quiver, the wild claim.
In every future need, the meadow calls her back—
To drink her own elixir, to run the ancient track.

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