Our lives are endless foreplay.
We fuse, we kiss, we roll in sweat
We’re fuzzy-brained and swollen-lipped
We’re rounded shoulders and rounded hips
We pant, we
We ache for something greater.
We ache to meet our (love)Maker.
… and sometimes we need to use our own hands
To get to where we think we’re going,
To get to where we think we’re coming.