The Spark

The spark of your desire
cuts through me
like a diamond wheel
and hones the shape
of my tender heart
into one of joy.

I have grown used to
the way you carve me
out of incipient dreams
with the careful force of your body,
the way you split me
and smooth me over,
part me
and break me
again and again
until I cleave to you.

What will I be
when I am no longer
the raw material
of your need?

drifting through
the starry void.


My body rained heavily over yours
like a tropical storm
onto the firm waiting earth,
seeping into you,
warm and wet.

With the raw force
of nature
you entered me
again and again.

And in that one moment
Time uncupped itself
from its sheath,
emerging fresh
as a blossoming lotus flower
out of the silty muck,
to become a poem.

For that one moment,
you were mine.