I ride her breath in the day
while She rides me at night.
There are times
when the swell of fusion
becomes wine
then essence overspills
into taste.
I am Her overture
an engagement to be something else.
Sometimes I bawl like a calf
until She takes me somewhere.
We make love
She shows me Her body
crying in the wilderness
and I am that wilderness.
We make love
like lost children.
I breathe Her where She leaps
Her deep hands
moving under the surface
birthing waves.
We are the running hooves of mortality
riding the wind bareback.
