The Conversation

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After you spoke,

crisis.

 

Elbow space between

us on the couch, you pulled me

into where you thought

when you really talked–

I mean, past the dirty jokes,

and stories about your eighties metalhead

days, scaring  small town church ladies

(while intriguing their daughters).

 

You’re older and life gave you more

answers than I had questions.

So once we edged closer and deeper:

there’s sex, our bodies, love for all

neighbors on a wide spectrum;

or finding God, then expanding

the image of where to find him. Your

masculine angle charged my

feminine energy in bloom; talks

of freedom, and what makes us connect

one vibe to another.

 

It was getting late. I must be going.

But the conversation came home with me.

 

See, I didn’t plan to come over

and hear you rearrange my settings,

but I’ve already started rerouting.

I could take the detour–

 

But am I ready?

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