That’s how I learned to inhale long and deep
and exhale quick.
On a bed for forty years, one small bed, we one.
I could have chosen (Could I not?) to follow another man
Or lived like a fairy, sans
But, God, it surely felt good to make him mine.
Not in a quest to find love. No, no-
As it happens in dark halls, pages, in glitter rains-
I, with him; freed and tussled in a crammy bed,
Shredded each other for pleasure and pain.