By Frank Diamond

So what am I
To say about your smile?
Or the way your fingers
Trace my troubled spine?
Is it worth mentioning
How we laugh at nothing?
These aren’t strategies
That captivate our age
And orgasm’s fine by me
A nearly spiritual rite, right?
But it’s how you lip sync
Oldies that I remember
Or twirling your hair
While coaxing shy words out
Rain murmurs on our skylight
Once complete, an orgasm’s done
A god who’s won, then deserted
Leaving us with fibers
Of silence beyond mention
Were we not again able
To fuck upon the dining table
Or anywhere else for that matter
I’d gather our dappled moments, old friend
And I would stay with thee, I would stay
Through sexless nights until our better end