oh, is getting into this
an invitation of pain?
does this desire mean something else,
a deeper craving for
something i shouldn't ever have had--
or just love, lust, golden and gritty,
something snowing down on us
from higher plains?
is opening this door a shade of
masochism, a proof of
something more amoral than usual?
you are a whirlwind of yearning,
you sweep through me
and out again in no time at all.
you are a migration of my desires
from sensibility
to possibilities, a breaking
of the old rules for the offerings
of the new.
so, if pain is what it brings,
i'll invite it; or, if pleasure,
i shall take what i find and
turn it into beauty.