Your body when it's given up to me
reminds me of violas. I can hear
the music of a flautist, the soft pad
of feet on the floor boards. The way you move
your belly up and down to breathe is like
the rise and fall of tides. I find comfort
in the quiescence of a nonresponse,
in her cool and reposed demeanor.
I think of he who gives his body to
the ocean in a dive, who gives the Sun
a form to illumine, know and accept.
Receive me like the hands receive the host,
the ears receive the voice; receive me with
your body like the eye receives the world.
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