all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Thursday, August 18, 2005

the just after

it's hard not to want to write
about orgasm,
even though all i can tell you
is that grasping climb, thighs
pixellating with heat,
fingers in an animal clutch,
toes in a feral, fetal curl,
and something in the belly whirring
with strange and marvelous appetite -
even in the vortex of such a whirlpool,
I am convinced there is a poem, waiting.

but how to tell you about
the just after?

what i didn't know
was that God could be in the room, too
moments after coming,
how God could sidle next to the bed
in the barest hint of a whisper,
how a tiny, precious tendril of God
could snake its way
under my whole body and, somehow,
like a feather stroke
like a pocket of air
like a caesura of freedom,
lift all the yearning out.

3 comments:

dweezila said...

darlin,

is it greedy, is it wrong for me to ask you to send a little of your sweet life over to my messy, messy one for a wee spell?

yours vicariously,

Peter said...

Interesting!

Laura said...

Soooo delicious...