I am a house of possibility

A cavern of cacophony, the richness of guano, fertile soil 

Fetid fetal remains that never scrub clean

What does his "love" matter when 

The legs come out first, the neck gets stuck,

She'd be howling but she can't pull air? 

Where are your male gods now? 

I am a house of possibility but you are itinerant 

And I am never allowed to leave

What if your top half was only ever made of lemon
Sour and segmented coming apart at the seams
What if your bottom half was only ever made of salt
Granular and dissolving in the distemperence of your heart

In the grate and groan of your old southern rock I find myself, conquering and conquered, fearless and full of night

It begins with an image
Hands mouth eyes nose mouth hands
A coffee cup, a kitchen table, worn out shoes, a sweat-stained shirt

I place you: the timing of you
The mountains and valleys of your shoulder blades
Where you are young and I am eternal

I run the cycle through with you
All my women and I know so well each step
It is our own hearts that convince us men are possible

We heal each other wholly
The institutional memory lapses
And we begin again

The night your lips first found my ear 

And my thighs slipped down the old wrinkled leather seat

The curl of my hands on your waist

You breathed beer and sunset and heat in my mouth 

The shape your headlights cast on my moms garage door 

As I told you it was safe to give in

You gave in

I married him
I had a lot of booze first and was smoking in my wedding dress
We had everyone at a makeshift bar and he lent me his lighter
The ceremony was some huge production and my dad didn't walk me very far
I married him

i met her beneath a harvest moon, but
very far afield

the trenches of the atlantic opened up and
she walked between, or on top

she was no colors, no sounds
and every color and the rushing roar of wholeness

she was not surprised that i came
she did not have eyes, she said

you do not have to look forward, to find the new
you can look backward just as well

center yourself in the richness of your own blood
it has a taste that you should know better than anyone else

i am the sea, the sound, the life
and none can escape me

and she walked back into the surf
leaving russet footprints to be swept out and away