Love him with a wild and desperate yearning.
Love him with the hospitality of the Bedouins,
a fierce and elaborate generosity.
Love him the way a dog loves it’s owner,
pouncing and licking
in excitement and adoration.
Love him with shamanistic cunning.
Read his sexual fantasies
in your tea leaves
and give him
lucid wet dreams.
Love him with the eloquence of a poet,
talk dirty poetry into his ear
before you stick your tongue in there
and nibble his earlobe.
Love him like the Earth Mother herself,
welcome every part of him
inside the grand consensus
of your body.
Receive him the way the ground does
the roots of trees and plants;
be his fertile, fecund foundation.
Kiss him like a delicate blossoming flower kisses the sky,
straining in impossibility to touch the beauty of the soul
across the great distance of inherent separateness.
Give him the best sex he’s ever had
and hope with gentle hope
that he will love you in return.
And for god’s sakes hope
that he will not treat you the way humans do with Mother Earth,
trashing and polluting you
even though your ever loving body is
his only home.