Dec 09, 2008 03:40
The Only Human Thing
On her childhood bed, they attempt,
entangled like animals, to scale a height;
Later he would describe it back to her as
straightforward making love. In her mouth
crouches the word fucking. Like animals.
Despite her misgivings and the unspoken word,
she recognizes the need for this,
the gut-wrenching goal to achieve.
As if, with their bodies at first imploding,
and then expanding - some huge pressure
being lifted in an instant - they had reached
some shining peak: two hikers scaling the same
great mountain, at the same time and yet
independently. To meet, face to face, at the tip,
and then the sudden gasp at the thinness of the air,
there was no choice to clutch at each other,
the only human thing they could see for miles,
and to fall back down, murmuring slowly
each other’s names. There was no choice;
here is the only human thing for miles.
poetry with line cuts,
writing exercise