Sex Without Love
How do they do it, the ones who make loveWithout love?
Beautiful as dancer,
Gliding over each other like ice - skaters
Over the ice,
Fingers hooked inside each other's bodies,
Faces red as steak, wine,
Wet as the children at birth
Whose mothers are going to give them away.
How do they come
God come to the still waters
And not love the one
Who came there with them
Light rising slowly as steam off their joined skin?
These are the true religious
The Purists, the pros,
The ones who will not
Accept a false Messiah,
Love the priest instead of the God.
They do not mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
They are like great runners:
They know they are alone with the road surface,
The cold, the wind,
The fit of their shoes,
Their over all cardio- vascular health - just factors,
Like the partner in the bed,
And not the trutn
Which is the single body alone in the universe
Against its own best time.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.