fusion

 That night we were husband and wife on a molecular level,

I wonder,

Did you consume any of my dna,

Or did everything really spill out on my fitted sheet?

I try to believe that at least some of me 

Had been absorbed by you in the most cellular way, 

Though most of me had been blocked to spill out on the bed.

Your IUD took care of that.

And now it’s a stain on my mattress.

Still, I’m now absorbed in you in my most abstract thoughts,

Ignorant of the vast space between atoms 

Which we have no means of perceiving.

For days afterwards, I didn’t hear from you

And you were only in the dark matter of my dreams,

Retaining that energy as we stretched and expanded.

You were accelerating from my center and

I don’t know why.

Gift

 You surprise me with a gift

Presented on your knees

Your touch, reaching, means supplication

You offer to take something from me as your gift.

You offer to deliver me from my tension, my surplus, my weight,

A reprieve from urgency and impatience.

You communicate this to me as an art, a dance,

A giving of your music;

Sounds, affection and sensual movement.

In this, I find purchase in you,

Contained by you.

You watch me, feel me

Growing, knowing

That you possess me.

I am possessed.

Ecstacy, joy, bliss

Oh how I adore you

A triumphant exhultation

I surrender to you and you are proud,

The reward of love.

Angel, you have served me.

The Strangest Thing Is To Love

 The strangest thing is to love, but not so deeply that you lose yourself and can’t recover.  Love seems to be an infinite, bottomless thing and it is easy to lose yourself in such enormity.  It is really like an addiction; it is an absolute, its borders so far out that, to reach them would exhaust you, quite literally.  Love deeply but don’t lose sight of yourself, don’t live that love in spite of yourself.     Because of its immense size, it is a dangerous thing.  Sweet as it can be, you need to keep your wits about you.  You need to be self-aware.  Like the elements, love can be as wonderful as a sunny day, but it is a force of nature still, and can be as disastrous as a shift in the foundations of the earth.

Venus

 The sun is setting.

The horizon of shadow

Rises above the trees

And is lost in the open air.

The children are asleep now.

We are their parents,

We have given our days to them.

Venus is above us, looking down.

She grows stronger as the light fades.

I can hear her voice.

She speaks and I turn to you.

I tell you what she wants you to hear…

evaporation

 I still feel the heat of the bed, the fire before sleep, so beautiful in its act, yet always laced with a delicious guilt to follow. You sleep, spent, swept away by the wave of your orgasms. Have I laid you out? Have I thrown you into this sleep to rest? I love you as you lay, lain. I watch you as you breathe, relish your mortality; the imposition of your body next to me. I'm spent along with you, but I feel the joy of endorphins, watching you as the sweat on our bodies evaporates and the coldness of the night settles on us. I kiss your cold, naked shoulder. Soon I will fumble for the blankets and pull them over us but for now we are warm and the coolness of the approaching night brings us to the balance that comes with sleep.

Petition

 Our groins still moist from lovemaking,

We lay on the cool sheets,

Naked in the white light.

I am declaring myself happy

Imploring God to leave me this way.

Cuckold

 Men often come on to you, attracted to your vitality, your vivaciousness and your physical magnetism. I love it when you come home and tell me about a man who has tried to pierce the strength of your fidelity. He, like all the rest, uses an ancestry of innuendoes, thousands of years old, millions of attempts dry and you roll your eyes at how droll they are. I imagine what he sees in you, that spark of attraction and lust that draws them in to you. I see you with their eyes and couldn't agree more. I see the woman you are, walking into the room, radiating sexuality and heat. You become a quantum possibility to them, a route towards gratification as deep as the vessel of their bodies. I want you just the same, but I have the grace of your favour and this is my eternal advantage. When I have you in our conjugal bed, I feel like I am stealing the experience from him, which heightens the arousal for me. I take that part of his life and make it mine. I take what he tried to steal away from me, and make you completely mine. I am no longer the cuckold. He is. Our orgasms are his punishment for trying. I steal his dream with all the voraciousness that he'd had in reserve. All possibilities are mine, all opportunities are mine. This is me, thanking him for the inspiration.