I don’t think anyone has requested a poem about sex until now…which I find kind of surprising!
The awesome Typewriter Poetry supporter, Charlene, wrote me yet another poem on the spot and requested I write a poem on the same subject. Here is the sister poem to her poem (“Sex”).
Certainly there are types
who refer to the first time
like there is nothing
left to gain in a world so void
of surprises. Yes,
we have been
here, before. Every time,
we fall into each other
nor precedence, eager
to press familiar
hands blind and wild
with routine memory.
In our room’s intimate darkness,
I held you as I’ll always hold you.
Breathed you in. Tucked you closer.
The sun doesn’t come
without warning. Skies shift slowly
often unnoticed amongst our own
chaos. And I know
we have been here
before. People wrap themselves up
in past, future tenses, wherein nothing
becomes new. We forget
these unused moments, their radius
teeming with death, then life,
shying in and out like stars
without names. But lovers can learn
amidst time’s ancient migration
*edit: This was on the postsecret website the other day. I thought it was extremely relevant to this poem, and wanted to share: