The first time I crawled in bed
with a man, he said,
“My god…
you’re beautiful.”
White Calvin Kleins
Lamplight, and him
Eyebrows for days
Lips for years
The longing, a lifetime
You’d think I’d have been
nervous, but
you’d be wrong
Born with instinct, I was…
An alligator
without water
Hammer
without nail
A man
without a man
But I knew—
I knew what to do
He came closer, knees gliding
across a mattress-playground,
and a forty six-year-old cage
turned into monkey bars
So…
I pushed
my way
to the front
Crawled across his ribs
Tightened my grip,
and swung from him
Because I’d already waited my turn
His chapped hands, peeled away my skin
Layer after layer
Until the things I’d most prayed for—
to never. Not ever. Not this.
Healing in calloused hands
drew shame to the surface
Unbuilt cathedrals where
deepest secrets were kept
A make-love magnet
current running through,
polarized
Skin like steel,
fastened against him,
the built-up voltage of
a thousand years
An ancient waiting
I was…
of him
Of myself
Then…
On an orange fitted sheet
next to my head,
from my eyes,
or heart
darker orange spots, wet with tears
Crop circles of wait
and wait
and wait
Because…
finally,
the moment had come.
And I understood
it was never
too late
too late
too late
