all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Friday, August 26, 2005

safe














there are too many glimpses of the breakage.
life fissuring into sand.
this feeling like
each day could bring such
shearing, cataclysmic grief.

all I know
is the tightrope I am walking.
somehow
i have been spared yet again,
some glitch in the system
buying me more time.

of course, it is so hard to keep aloft
on such an island.
my body has to make such a ludicrous swivel
to turn into safe harbor.

no wonder
after a night’s jubilant sex
with my crotch in a shimmy
and the whole room sweating
why, afterward,
i cannot stop myself
from weeping.

5 comments:

snowsparkle said...

your words fall so fine
like luminous feathers
spent in flight
so soft the beauty
so alive the light
eternal thanks
--snowsparkle

dweezila said...

something in you is cracking open so beautifully. What a journey, what a gift.

lovely...

Dale said...

The better the sex, the more vulnerable I feel afterwards, the more like I've opened myself to catastrophe. Loved this poem.

Anonymous said...

So glad I read this today. Yes.
moose

Jill Draper said...

I just might switch sexual preferences just to know what it must be to make love to you.