tender complicity

I thought you could write something about me that the men can't - What I want written - I do not know - I have no definite idea of what it should be - but a woman who has lived many things and who sees lines and colors as an expression of living - might say something that a man can't - I feel there is something unexplored about woman that only a woman can explore - Men have done all they can do about it. Does that mean anything to you - or doesn't it?

It’s funny when you feel as if you don’t want anything more in your life except to sleep, or else to lie without moving. That’s when you can hear time sliding past you, like water running.

The flood carries you away; that's life; we can't judge or understand, we can only let ourselves drift.

She drew me to her, kissing me gently, her tongue inside my lower lip. I put my arms around her, not sure whether I was a lover or a child. I wanted her to hide me beneath her skirts against all menace. Sharp points of desire were still there but there was too a sleepy safe rest like being in a boat as I had as a child. She rocked me against her, sea-calm, sea under a clear sky, a glass-bottomed boat and nothing to fear.

We lay down on the floor, our backs to the day. I needed no more light than was in her touch, her fingers brushing my skin, bringing up the nerve ends. Eyes closed I began a voyage down her spine, the cobbled road of hers that brought me to a cleft and a damp valley then a deep pin to drown in. What other places are there in the world than those discovered on a lover’s body?

When I say 'I will be true to you' I am drawing a quiet space beyond the reach of other desires. No-one can legislate love; it cannot be given orders or cajoled into service. Love belongs to itself, deaf to pleading and unmoved by violence. Love is not something you can negotiate. Love is the one thing stronger than desire and the only proper reason to resist temptation.

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.

If I bother you, I can still vanish into the fog. I’m the kid who slips through walls. Everyone knows that.

Ah! You were so beautiful, the way you wrung your precious arms. Your tears, your petals oozed down your lovely face.