Bow and Sinew

I am alive at the vee of your legs
contemplating your most moist embrace,
marveling at the muscles that mothered
my fatherhood a generation ago.

As your back arches into a bow,
my arms knot and I rise to press sinew
to your nurturing primordial tides,
a creature at the instant of evolution.

Together we ride the arrow and hiss, spent,
into the sea where even tranquility rests.
Our bodies lie slack and calm;
still entwined, we are sated,

each in a private place where
anticipation awaits its own return.
I trace you with a fingertip
and see the ring you gave me

when we were young
catch the light of the late morning sun.



About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in eroticism, Poem, Sex, Slice of Life and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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