Sheer speculation, research, art, memory, and even poetry about the cosmic, tidal force of sex.
I’m from just a touch south of the Congo.
I may add on to this. We’ll see where it goes.
in this infinite blue-gray ocean of
moments that never were, and moments that never can be
come to me, before the horizon takes you,
come to me in this beautifully flowered raft for the moment that is ours alone,
drink wine with me and close the never away outside, for now.
love each other foolishly and fearlessly,
by the light of the other’s eyes, a graze of soft warm breath
on the cheek,
along the neck,
then tender kisses, deep kisses, and kisses on the smile.
our bodies merge, inside as inside can be,
it is impossible to say
who is farther inside the other
then everything, everything, shakes hard.
the scent of warm skin,
heads touching, hair mingled.
in the quiet,
a shared thought cradles us as one.
sleep close to me then, with your head on my shoulder
and my arm around yours,
we’ll rise and fall on soft waves, embracing…whispering until
the morning sky claims you and carries you away
no plan. no goal.
none of this to make the future
bend along the path of an old sad story that
we never remembered in quite the same way.
we’ll use our always to cut this glowing moment
out of the never.
“I support anyone’s right to be who they want to be. My question is: To what extent do I have to participate in your self-image?”