>Poem

>It is white
               electric
And boundless – stretching in all directions
She said in the dark after we made love

I touched her curves still moist with sweat
Like a potter running his hands in wet clay

Boundaries, curves, delimitations
Uncovering and recovering hidden sacred grottoes of pleasure
Suffocating, intoxicating
                              closeness

The one word for me is embrace
No         she said         release

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About spaceloom

An urban monk, and an experienced spiritual director with a Masters in Psychology. Married with two children. Want to know me better? Read my thoughts.
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