Maggie Mae

by Jeanne Treadway

Illustration: Rapture by Via Keller at Studio Psycherotica, from the book "Chaos & CyberCulture" by Dr. Timothy Leary, 1994

Here I am,
Proud, sexy, single
Strutting my lovely breasts,
Shaking my tasty booty,
Watching eyes turn,
Winking as I stretch my lithe neck.
My curves are soft, inviting caresses.
My long hair teases nostrils with aromatic smoke.
My skin is so sweet, a day-past-ripe peach is envious.
My eyes flash and laugh easily these days.
My lips are wet and ruby, sweet cherry red.

But I am fifty,
Past my prime,
No longer the Sacred Whore,
I serve as Crone now.
My bones are weary.
My spirit is wearier, sometimes
Stronger, surer, other times.
I sleep more now and
Dream different dreams.
I know how to love now.
I know what I need now.
Thank the Goddess,
I am unloved and unneeded now.

No child of mine roams this world.
No husband warms my bed.
Hot glances come only from
Those who are troth-bound.
Remembering another time
Their lust flames high again.
My knowledge is of flesh, of loving,
Of living and of dying.
I know the seasons, and
I know all men.
Now I take only those I love
And only when I wish.

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