Sunday, 26 April 2015

Animal Soul


 

How beautiful are our animals:

my feet pummelling your sweet hind;

your thighs astraddle my ankle.

How innocent and beautiful - my hand

lathering between your peach-cheeks,

bending my face close to sandlewood soap

your scribbled shins.

It is not sin.

It is merely terrifying.

It is terrifying to know each other

naked as dumb animals;

mute and swollen with animal soul.

No longer is this mellow drama for

my climax or your syntax.

It is the rugged theatre of the primates;

it is the ritual at the rough conception of all others.

It is the world’s first terrible sacrament.