Consummation
Exposed and nude he goes to where you are,
he laughs from behind his birthday suit — laughs loudly,
knowing you will not notice. He has no morals
the shameless wind, as he rubs across your body,
caresses your tight skin, lays softly with you
on the blanket, each time you nap outside.
Yet you’ve never said the wind was rude,
never called him fresh despite the things he’s tried!
But now the wind leaves his bed by you,
comes drunk with love straight to me. I smell
the titillating scents he brings from sleep with you.
Tipsy, he twirls around my body, lies with me,
hugs me with the passion he hugged from you; thus he joins
us in his holy matrimony, glues body to body with the ceremony.
It’s a wholly natural thing, you see — why call our union sin
when it’s been consummated by the wind!
