I was born a boy
With an electric eel
Between my legs
This slippery length of muscle
And I find it laughable
That I approach the woman
That I want to love
Holding this bold little outcropping
Of nervous energy
By the tail

The woman that I want to love
Was born a girl
With a little quiver of quicksand
Between her legs:
The triangle of bramble curls
Just above her sweet little swerve
Came later
And smells earthy and salt sweet
To tickle my nose

Our desire to ravish each other
And to grow old together
Comes down to an eel
Who acts like it is gasping for air
Who can only breathe
And act naturally
When it is swimming easily
A sly arc
Enfolded with musk
In her pussy willow pond
Her bushy briny bog
Her giggly salve gurgle
Her "Oh My" little ocean
That longs to swallow the world
And burp a baby

. . .

copyright 2000, Linford Detweiler