that this joy lasts

 

she is talking to her mother on the phone

and you have pulled her underwear down below her ankles

you are standing beside the woman you love

and have your fingers, three of them, inside her

she is rocking and wet and breathing hard

and at the same time trying to be a daughter

she is laughing and trying to converse with her mother

the contradictions both horrifying and making her giddy

you do not remove your hand

but slide to the floor and your knees

where you begin that most sacred of prayers

you replace your fingers with your tongue

listen as her voice becomes staccato

you are not distracted when she pulls your hair

this all take places in minutes

parts of minutes, seconds

 

the conversation over

she does not move except to hang up the phone

she stands with one hand on the fridge for balance

the other rooted in your hair

pulling your face deeper into that mystery

of want and need and discovery and faith

and that is how it all ends

you on your knees and praying

that this joy lasts

 

 

Copyright© michael dennis

 

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