Poem on Sex
Bodies is what I imagine with Sex
Bodies curled up and wrapped together
Bodies looking to grab any bond
Bodies bind together to belong
Bodies holding each other to grasp
Bodies shouting to be heard
Bodies staring into each other with naked eyes
Bodies falling into each other with hope to stick with the flesh
Bodies moving into each other to experience the depth
Bodies branching out each other to grow higher
Bodies forming positions to align with one another
Bodies coming together to unite their parts
Bodies passing currents to each other
Bodies tying into each other
Bodies lightning with each other in the dark
Bodies shredding the flesh to find that’s hidden
But oh, silly me, cannot see
I just see the body’s Experience or Expression of Sex
I cannot see the breath that curling and wrapping in these fleeting moments
I cannot see the bond sunken into the merge of energies
I cannot see the energy pulled into the innate belonging
I cannot see the release of energies into each other
I cannot see rhythm of energies vibrating to shift the Whole
I cannot see the energy removing the illusion of nakedness
I cannot see the energy surrendering into the gooey source
I cannot see the expanding of the energy that forms the surface called depth
I cannot see the energy rooted in for the expression of growth
I cannot see the energy in alignment to form One
I cannot see the union of energy that magnetise the parts
I cannot see the energy that opens the cells to embody the current
I cannot see the energy swirling like a thread to form the fabrics of the knot
I cannot see the rising of the energy that binds the light with dark
I cannot see the branching of the energy unfurling from beyond
And Just with this my heart beats and there cast in front of it
The vision of how these bodies, the very gateway to experience the unknown
They are sacred, as a breath
Their senses, like paths which elongate into every dimension with every foot of presence and connect to the source
The ceremony of beings, the rituals of sensualities
Every movement resonating with the divine rhythm
There in I Paused and realised
Sex, Art of Energy On the canvas of Body with Colours of Divine
Therefore, A travel through layers of Dimension
The question remains, Artist or Art? What do we experience or what remains to experience when two of them seems to be One?
Oh dear, how can we name it?
When its mere experience is ever expanding even when the expression of it seems to be One?
Where it lies?
In the intensity, in the mundanity and everything in between.