God’s Spine

Sex is not
xxone-to-one,
gender to desire.

It is fine, red dust,
xxtthe windowsill
wordless,

fragrant with heat.
xxOur bodies begging
redemption, fingers

moving to eyes,
xxshell-white, rolled
back. Bedding, a cold relief.

We fall undone—leaf unpinned,
xxan opening
at the root.

Morning will come with its terrible
xxteeth, our outline
traced in sweat.