I dream you closer too (sex is our only spiritual ascension)

 you wilder than michelangelo’s david/you air's purr/you living currency/you dead pasts/you a stick of incense/you a stick-up artist/you haraami/you the hum of a lifetime basined in my lap/count our tallies of loss backward for me/run to the bank & translate it into a fistful of green of your choice/or something else sanctified/or european/pick the synonym of your choice.

in a traditional sense/the body holds its arithmetic/exports it outward/to the touch and exhale/the praxis felt best/against a groan of couch/with the smart weight of a hand against the small of a back/here, sex is our only spiritual ascension/can i be excused from living so boldly and slimly at the same time?

i dream you closer too/beside the honey-colored dog licking its vulva/a concrete laugh flying out of your throat/ask me about blood clots and crescent moons/the cracked skin of heels/anything but the nightly heartbreaks of/too many addresses/and all the ways/i am still auditioning/for this country’s approval.

Rather unfaithfully Momtaza Mehri's Small Talk