I’ve grabbed on to the primal experience of holding you
One fist grabs and caresses the creases
That keep running down the back of my spine
Spinning reality into a sequence of verses
That forgive me for thinking these thoughts.
But in the alleys of my caresses
That pigeon hole my expression like a crab upon my toe
I’ve gone beyond what I used to call fairness
To a land of sacred union
Derived from the ancient practice of you.