ONE OF SEVEN

'They who are infatuated with lust fall back into the stream
as a spider on its self-spun web'.
-- Bede Griffiths, Universal Wisdom

Last night we offered whispered chants in that ritual
undressing

of how we met. Everything has significance.
That is what you said.

But it wasn't what you said. It was more how you
held me that time

we discovered the naturalness
of unnatural sex

and you may remember
it wasn't as if we hadn't explored

our bodies like this before
and it wasn't as if we wanted to pretend

the moon
is spotless or the sun opposes what is hidden

simply because icons are smoothed
softly into stone.

We know water washes
what doesn't dissolve until the next day

when it happens again. We keep falling
back

to front and slippery with sweat
you saw my face really was yours.

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