Rasa

I slick my skin with oil
scented to invite you to come home. 
It seals in my rasa, my sacred flavours.
and shields you from the fire stoked by hundreds.
Like the Goddesses of Hindu tales
I embody Her complexities and finery.
I prepare to be entwined in clear lines
stepping in circles
around here and there
and you
and I.
We press palms and inhale.
We breathe step 
by pivot
by pause.
Wonder thickens
between songs as 
we gaze into the eyes of our found duo.
A delicious question unspoken rises between us
before we complete the tanda with concealed regret.
I radiate into his energetic body
and leave sparkles of my preparations
with rose water
white sage
and coconut.
I give over to the world that is inhaled and imagined 
fleeting and unkept
in a dance of understanding
and respect.