by Sarah Certa
I breathe with the pulse of Jesus in my throat
and have no idea what this means
for the woman I am today. I live my life
from the unseen center of the rosebud, my forehead
matted against the edge of your life like a moan.
You peel me back from myself and I scream
in delight and/or terror at my nakedness
in your arms. You pick my bones raw
with your gaze from across the room, across
the state line, the other state line, the other other
state line, across the sky that stretches open
between your shoulder blades, how you hold
the whole world up even when your own
is crumbling down inside you once again.
And they wonder why I call you master.
And they wonder why I serve you.
And they wonder how they can get this close,
not realizing that wonder is the tongue
of intimacy, how not knowing you
is how I keep getting to know you
from the inside of me out, like an inverted
vagina, I can never remember
if I’m coming or
Sarah Certa is a poet, wellness advocate, spiritual counselor, self-love ambassador, & founder of Divine Romance. Follow her on Twitter @AlienHere2Love.