What joy can I bring you?
We know pleasure,
oh yes, how we know pleasure…
but I mean not of a single finger
up your spine to wake your
skin and bring your chest to mine—
no, I mean the loving trace
of my hands on your strong back,
and our sleeping tangle of fingers and legs
like roots weaving to ground together.
I do not mean your lips on the cusp of my chin,
warm breath at my neck,
but the words of your mouth—
the questions that cut the tension of touch
and ask me to go deeper.
I mean the joy in knowing
we can conflict and emerge more intimate,
not colliding in lust,
our bodies worn but our hearts more weary;
I am here to hear all you have to say,
and hold you more closely than
the arms that pull each other from our clothes
ever could.
Let us instead pull each other from our souls,
vulnerable, naked, free.
Delight in my laughter,
and I will in yours,
have the courage to love me,
dance because yes, my hips fit perfectly in your hands,
and when we make love let it be in the joy
we have found in being in love.
Author: Tiffany Anderson
Editor: Catherine Monkman
Image: ShuShuhome/Deviantart
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