Porn of My World: for my husband

Posted on 04 November 2009

I
He burns the films in a bonfire / deep in the moon-puddled
woodland where the circling witches dance / then
he turns to the yellow-fleshed plum / pulled from
the kitchen’s wooden bowl
(the still-life of plum orchid banana)
I know he has all the porn he needs / the porn
he truly desires
eating the plum over the sink / plink plink of juice
as of rain / sweet sweet.

II
I have sex when I feel broken / sex, the forceful act
being opened wide as the purple orchid
yielding as the flower’s center filled with the fluid of
sun / the semen of light
pulsing / we have sex when I am broken / his hands
move over my ribcage mending
my ribs / their fractures: he is a disciple of yellow /
hands move, stir me, sire me, shift
me / I am a silk slip over flesh of nothingness become
something / in the simple act of sex.

III
Sleep sleep amongst the poppies / sleep. Tomorrow all is
forgiven / perhaps forgotten / I
apologize to the stars for they too bear
their shadows / chase
them, see how far you get / they dapple
your heart like your shoulders / & the black cat mews
in the cornfield & the skunk lifts his tail
by the broken wheelbarrow / as we make love
tenderly / forgive me / make me laugh /
sleep sleep.


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