serenity

Because your flesh is mine, you are never that far.

I remember your baby-steps when I led you, blind, to the bedroom.

If only you could have seen yourself; serene, obscene, your chest against the ground, ass raised. You were open, my kind of open, my kind of vulnerable, open enough to reveal your obeisance, your slick evidence of place.

If only you could see through my eyes; the pride in how you took it without question, without resistance. Unwound, unbound, but held tightly, your small cries were real, gut real, and I smiled at every one.

Your tears, when they came, were beautiful.

Because you didn’t turn away from them.