i’ve given in to him

his tragedy, his intensity, his

hungry cut blue eyes on me

his tough body against my softness

because he NEEDS

and nothing about me scares him

and he desires to please

and our souls inhabit the same liminal space,

the same berry-stained twilight

wherin something new and incandescent approaches

i go to him in the day

but it is always night

all that is on the outside –

the light, time and rush of otherness

ceases to exist

as he moves over and into me

as his mouth swallows mine

as his good music drifts

from the kitchen to his bed

where he never sleeps

and his soon-to-be ex-wife’s name has been written

on a label stuck to the wall above my body

by his child

here we inhabit something in-between

that is not his home

but a weigh station

too near her

too far from his babies

but very much with me

as I am soft, open

seductive

and intent on on extracting

some of these labels

attending his existence

and filling his emptiness with

heat

and magic

and joy