table.
“It is not a fast day.”
Looking intently at me, he smiles. “Fasting curbs my desires.”
“But don’t you hunger?”
He shakes his head, tracing my mouth with the tip of his finger. “Not for food.”
Deep brown eyes spiraled in gold draw me into infinity. I swallow and drop my gaze to his mouth. His lips greet mine tentatively, until I open to receive him, then his kiss becomes sweetly urgent. I am melting into him to become hot liquid spilling on the cool tile floor.
“Yeshua,” drawing away, I ask breathlessly, “when did you know about us?”
“Before I left for Britannia.” What! That was nearly three years ago. He holds me against his chest, stroking my tangled curls. “I should have told you sooner.” Trembling with unspent passion, I release a shuddering cry. “I promise that I will not cause you any more suffering.”
In the portal of his eyes, the truth is revealed. “In loving you, I fear I shall experience much more suffering.”
A single tear slides down his tan cheek and splashes onto mine, sealing our fate.
The odor of sandalwood permeates my nostrils from the oil massaged onto my skin. All morning I have been tended by the women, my body soaked in a jasmine bath, my hair rinsed in lavender and lemon. Silk sways tantalizingly against my smooth legs as I wander down the hall. My mother would be appalled to see me in this revealing Grecian sadin and what has been revealed to me in the chamam, she can never know.
I miss Yeshua. Three weeks ago Joseph took him into the wilderness to prepare for our coming wedding. The house feels so empty. I enter the inner sanctum through a thick black drape embroidered with the constellations and a full moon. In opposition to the sun’s path, I dance with the sensuous hayye, filling thirteen oil lamps before pouring eight drops of precious oil upon lambskins arranged in the four directions. The star within a rose glows hotly beneath me as I recline on the altar. The one candle flickers, but paying no mind, I trace spirals upon my skin, noticing that my violet hue is glistening with Yeshua’s silver.
Suddenly, there seems a bit less air in the room. Holding my breath, I sit up to peer into the dark. The circle of moonlight entertains a familiar shadow…Yeshua!
Ecstatic, I cover his face with kisses. “So, Mary,” he whispers into my soft curls, “why are you here?” Looking into his eyes, I see the mirror of my love.
“Your Ima asked me to prepare this room for a special ceremony. The swirling hayye came so I danced and then rested here to watch the moon rise. Would you like to join me, the sky is beautiful tonight.”
“I would love to join you, beloved, but first let me light the lamps.”
Before he moves away, I catch his hand. “No, we mustn’t waste the oil.”
“I do not think it will go to waste,” he whispers and moves toward the east, lighting each of the thirteen lamps in turn. I pray Miriam will not be too angry that we burn the oil before the ceremony.
Circling south of the altar, Yeshua drops to his knees. “You look so beautiful tonight with the flowers in your hair and that wonderful violet dress that matches the color of your life force. And you smell delicious. I wonder why Ima would have you prepare so elaborately only to ready this room.” He does not take his eyes off me, nor does he stand. My breath catches…I am the special ceremony!
He stands and drops his robe, adorned only by the small leather pouch around his neck. Nervously, I finger my own pouch nestled between my breasts. All the elaborate ministrations over the past three days were to prepare me for this moment. Pouring off my shoulders in silky waves of violet, my gown soon lies upon the altar. Yeshua gasps.
“You are so…beautiful!”
Swallowing thickly, he kneels and slides me closer, until the tips of my toes are level with his chest. From his robe he produces a tiny bottle of oil. Holding it over us he prays in Hebrew, the sacred language of our people, and then begins anointing my feet. His touch creates waves of sensation as the pungent odor of spikenard pervades the room. When he stands to move toward my head, I feel a pillar of hayye pour from above us to enclose the entire altar. Radiance gathers to witness our union. Yeshua gently directs me to lie back and slides me north. Again he holds the tiny vial aloft, praying fervently before softly anointing the crown of my head.
The column of energy widens when he joins me on the altar. I lay completely still, mesmerized by the pulsating hayye rising in my body from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. Tenderly, he kisses my mouth. With a cry, I pull him closer, hungrily yearning for more.
He begins stroking me softly, learning every curve. Each moment intensifies. I part my thighs and he dips into my wetness to paint spirals over my belly and breasts. I cry out as he takes a rigid nipple into his mouth. He tastes all of me and I am enchanted.
When he probes below with tender fingers, I yearn to arch up yet he holds me still. One finger, now two, now…Ouch! There is an uncomfortable tightness, something is wrong. “Yesh…?”
Rising up to face me, he whispers, “It is going to be fine, love.” Of course. Miriam explained that there might be some discomfort the first time. Touching his chest, I run my hands down his hard belly …my goodness, his desire must be much greater than my own!
Groaning, he lies back, but my attention is too much for he drags me up to face him. Kissing me fiercely, his lovemaking becomes more urgent. The hayye intensifies around us, crashing like waves in a stormy sea. Drumming quickens the music. I am in awe, but it is not over.
He captures my gaze, rocking gently to engage me in an entirely new dance. Seeking a deliciously furious rhythm we finally reach a point from which there is no return. The energies separate, each wave moving progressively faster until our passion becomes the purest vibration and all colors merge.
Time stops.
There is nothing but us, bathing in the now pure white light.
Yeshua collapses heavily upon me (light as a feather just a moment before) breathing raggedly. Still in awe, I watch shapes coalesce within the prism and kiss him eagerly, “Thank you. That was wonderful.”
“You’re welcome, my love. But what did you perceive?”
“Yesh, you were right here. Was it not the same for you?”
Kissing me tenderly, he nibbles my lower lip. “I don’t think so.”
Somewhat self-conscious, I whisper, “Yeshua, next time you can be the anointed one.”
Just as the sky lightens, Yeshua gently shakes me awake. “Mary, Did I hurt you?” Sitting up sleepily, I do not feel injured, only a bit sore. What is he talking about?
My gaze descends—blood everywhere, his groin, hips, and hands stained. Oh, no! I am unclean, and now… so is he.
“Forgive me,” I explain in a strangled voice, “it is my menses.”
“Barchashem!” Thanking the Divine, he reaches to embrace me, but shocked, I back away.
“Yeshua,
