she is talking to her mother on the phoneand 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