Circle of Fifths - 20160115

Into a circle of fifths the sound of it like a lock of turnstile cogs

Clicking and clockwise release in a moment of touch razing the land of the horizon

Into an emulsion of body parts, skin and flesh swelling in erogenous eggshell

Talk of paths and career duties, responsibilities to destinies rush like blood hounds

Leek and roasted garlic soup at a table a bottle of California red

Tongued tales of older men in their fifties lusting her thirty-something body into submission

Of giving herself for a receipt of turncoat confessions

To take photographs of gray-haired testimony, distances that daughters keep from daddy

Flooded in hurricanes lost in the black-speckled mold of crimpling paper dark-room

Developed and drained so that the mark of the water line keeps her hair

Grown short and pinned up to keep the ends form dragging in the muck-tuck

The hibernating nature of turtles in January pre-frozen but chilling

Allowing food to rest on the surface, neck in

Rather not move the body until the sun tilts the zenith in angular allowance, safe

That a body can feel the exhilaration of being embraced but not taken

Not stolen or sacrificed to an adage of mathematics of owed credits

For seasons of artistic crafts pottery molded and oil paints on the canvas avoided

For when does this ever dry, the pliable nature of an ebullient smile and sweat-milk cleavage

Being interpreted by men and by family and by bodies passing bodies

Alert to the juxtaposition of what it means to be wed or with child or in time

To have accomplished love or presence or togetherness

Of any of the grand cataclysmic pursuits of human affirmation

That this is who I am and I am doing, I am here and behold

As I reverberate through this universe to sound the harp of the goddesses nakedly bombastic

In the harmonic shake of a bitten lower lip, the tilt of pelvis

For a clitoris to rub beneath clothing as a man brushes the short-pinned locks back longer

Above an ear and turns her feet from below his thigh on a sofa upward to curve into her

Grasping the moment of Odysseus past the sirens and sailing

Into the huffed sounds of a delicate moan the arousal instantaneously orgasmic

In her loins to climb the arc turn to spread her hips and mount over his

Rubbing in release that every part of him feels good against her folds

Words have evacuated in a space of ember glow lamp light serene phasing

In undulating backdrop of her body over his, throbbing for his geometry

To recognize the levees breaking beneath her panties, the flotsam of her sweater

Into bra jettisoned for a grip of his hands upon her teardrop breasts rising and asking

So he takes her upstairs into his bed like a cloud of white, he is naked to match in seconds

Pacing the application of condom, one of five for the evening

And a sixth after breaking dawn she is pulsating the effort of a witness

The slate of being in a moment that taken view of a day drained

Labyrinths run for Minotaur migraines daring her to chop off her skull

To give into the fireball of capillaries insurgents to be here in his bed

Asking for nothing but her to give into the pleasure of his hands

Gripping her limbs tracing her arms and massaging her thighs

Not into submission to him but to the vine of stimulation like Jasmine

Rounding her garden flushing her labia engorged reckoning with the waterfall

The fluids rising in the room, her folds so wet she apologizes to his sheets

Knowing this is a grown man who does his own laundry, paid for this building

This staircase himself, no help and this is for her to be here

He is allowing himself to be vulnerable to hear the spearhead of emotional connection

Rest upon his penis underneath the sheath of that condom breaking not spermatozoa

Like some cannon of Valhalla, but feeling her from the inside, listening to the directions

Her body is scripting in the echoes of his mind seeing her signals in the motions of her mouth

Her cheeks and forehead, eyes closing in the intensity of orgasm after orgasm

And those snowflakes of fear behind her lids of what if he is like them

Praying to attempt to notice his uniqueness in the angles, the mathematics of how his penis fits inside her

Of the way he grips buttocks and presses a pillow behind his back as she folds over him

And he finds that measure deeper cradling her with the sheet folded over her back to keep her warm from

The rush of chilled air from invading this space as their bodies nest