Creationism

Creationism

So god created you
a man with skin and smiles
sharp angular curves of the body
that round over mine and smooth
my resistance until I cave.
Yes, cave – sweetly and deep
like a bear denning up for winter
full of fat and heavy with sedation
ready to bear children and roll back
into deep slumber.

God created you
a man with music for teeth, your torso a cello
quiet bells hung from the waist
swinging and chiming the chorus of your song.
You sing a siren lullaby knowing this wine
and water will lull me into your cavernous words
ambrosial and dripping with naivety.
I perch - a seasoned flower arching back
parading persuading the bee that comes
late in the autumn to suck the residual nectar
fragmented, crystalline, mine.

God created you
a man incensed with the perfume of domes
and springs, glaciers and history, bracken fern.
An encyclopedia of scents, of odors
you asphyxiate me.
Entwined in this tincture I struggle
against fiber scratching the skin,
tearing the petals and fur from my body
gulp the suffocating fragrance
and succumb, like a tethered wolf
surrendering, muzzled, domesticated.

God created you
a man speaking poetry with your eyes
a blue, so blue…
dark like reservoirs at bases of mountains
clear like shallow water merging into depths
blue like mountain lupine blooming in meadows
blue like sultry jazz licked from a saxophone.
As portals, my eyes flicker, reserved
resigning, retreating, neglecting your gaze.

So god created you
a man candied in humor
sweet on the tongue and bitter in regurgitation
like a barn owl’s appetite, round oblong compact.
We are an entrée of soured limes, peppered with salt
tasting and retasting small pebbles against the tongue
I sit, I sway, I come.
I am your ocean and you, the moon
pulling churning rounding over rocks
licking and smoothing down my resistance
until I cave.
- Sarah Wagstaff