She called him from his sleep
and begged for his tenderness
to embrace, his intimacy was
not her arousal for they had
already separated
the darkness from the light,
they had argued between fantasies
that day about
the meaning of relationship
between sex and love
neither were in denial,
she had aspirations of a goddess
whose feet must touch the earth
to open the hearts of men,
he simply lusted
and wanted release,
she had grown impatient
with his childish ways,
and so she was learning
to hate herself for being needful of
his animal thrusts to take her higher
and open her mind to undreamed places
within herself where she reconciled
their differences, their fever and their temperance,
their fortitude to stay the course,
for the truth to which she had resigned herself
is that
every Eve and every Adam live in separate
realities, chained to one another in the flesh
and unbound in matters of the heart;
Adam will always be content
with what is, and nothing else will ever be of
consequence enough to be noticed, the tree of life will never bear its
ripened fruit that must be tasted to be alive

Yet, there is mercy in the green mansion of the unbearable,
sometimes even they reach beyond themselves into something
that reminds them there is no act in love for a
broken thing such as a clock will tell the time
at least twice a day, and theirs is an unholy alliance,
that must last
as long as the sun shines and their desire for animal
passion does not lead to the garden's path.

No, she is certain now.

Love lives in isolation and does not ever descend
into their world.