you say boundary
Like we're in a B&B;
upholding the highest standards
of privacy for guests.

I remember standing outside the tangle of humans,
my friend and her four kids and husband
and I felt like I was in a Wal-mart parking lot and
couldn't wrap my head around the exits, even what
the word exit means.  All those logistical concerns,
but how do you, and what about...

now, with you, my mind can scarcely make out what the heck
you are talking about

I guess it’s fair to say that the prime concern
of those not in the bed
is not the same as those within
nor can you glimpse, from there,
the bridges, canyons
and glens

the sudden cascade of love to wake with a child in
your armpit and a lover tracing his finger over your
******, having been watching you two sleep
and growing so hard with love he can not move

and moving so the boat stays afloat for all
and rolling with the waves that are carrying you to shore

come roll call, all the guests are gone
you’ve come home, or not at all.

I like to call it blowing on the harp.  Or wailing.
Like how helpless my mouth is
in the throes of translating wind, how I forget to
unfurl into the hot pleasures
of bath, pearling on around me,
that I had previously spent several dimes of
anticipation on,
even the mounds
of afternoon-special bubbles,
even the pleasure of seeing my own
flushed and perfect skin, mermaided
beneath this tideless sea.

When the urge to blow upon the slim silver box finds me
I almost don’t.  Issues of noise and also
whatever it is when you think “I don’t
know how”. I am surprised to see such
reasonable concerns after all these years
of exacting unreasonable responses
from myself in those silvering and hightide
moments that you never see coming.  

As if there were more to
the how of it than lips and hands
and steam and breath and the now weary bubbles
done tired of waiting
and laid down instead, across the water
in flat white whorls,
in a type of peculiar obedience, to the music above.

She took away the bottle,
And replaced it with her hand,
She moved herself so close to me,
Graceful, deft and planned,
Before I even knew the rhythm,
She’d entwined my fragile heart,
And gently moved me round and round,
Accomplished in her part,
Her body warm and yielding,
Touched me through her dress,
The brush of thighs, her sparkling eyes,
And if she'd asked, It's "Yes”,
A natural fit too comfortable
For mere coincidence,
Focus now, and listen,
For what she says is making sense,
Easy chat, with feeling,
Acknowledged with gentle sway,
Reflected in our mirrored moves,
So please don't move away,
Now the music's fading,
With a little bit of me,

A simple smile, a break of hands,
But she'd left a symphony.