Leviathan’s tongue

I learned of them from the Tanakh. From the freckles on a woman’s back. Counting strokes was difficult with a treasure map before your eyes. She herself was a treasure but these birthmarks lead to something with more divinity. A leviathan. A beast of the sea, that’s were she led me. In exhaustion I asked her of the journey. Of were the map starts and ends. She laughed and ridiculed me for my unfocused effort. I was intrigued by your map, I forgot what I was doing. I would stop mid-stroke just to see the finer details. She was more serious now. The atmosphere became heavy, my chest tightened. And she looked at me with intrigue, I am the Leviathan. It shook me in the pancreas, it’s a map to Eden, to the foundation. She caressed me in my confusion, in my delusion and disbelief. Did I? Did I just sleep with a beast of the sea? They call us many names but I’m as woman as any other. As if I didn’t know her body already. As if I didn’t taste the odor of her womanhood and feel her breasts. Gatekeeper of the Biblical, of the ancestral, of the Divine she said as she traced her body with my hand clasped in hers. Impressed I knew her blemishes were more than ordinary, she licked my body clean of sin and told me in her tongue I love you. That’s when i first heard it. The Leviathan tongue.

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