Occasionally the moments arise when formality and dogma and rightness fade. I see you naked and soft and vulnerable. That whatever power I may have, I offer to you. I am the paltry gift of yearning and tumescence, of service and surrender.
Maybe we can freeze this time. You and I can both forget what we’ve been told. Or what we have chosen. Life can begin again between you and me. And out of the tingling, the sweat, and the bother, we can kindle the fire anew.