After the first astounding rush,
after the weeks at the lake,
the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks,
the snow breaking under our boots like skin,
& the long mornings in bed. . .
After the tangos in the kitchen,
& our eyes fixed on each other at dinner,
as if we would eat with our lids,
as if we would swallow each other. . .
I find you still
here beside me in bed,
(while my pen scratches the pad
& your skin glows as you read)
& my whole life so mellowed & changed
that at times I cannot remember
the crimp in my heart that brought me to you,
the pain of a marriage like an old ache,
a husband like an arthritic knuckle.
Here, living with you,
love is still the only subject that matters.
I open to you like a flowering wound,
or a trough in the sea filled with dreaming fish,
or a steaming chasm of earth
split by a major quake.
You changed the topography.
Where valleys were,
there are now mountains.
Where deserts were,
there now are seas.
We rub each other,
but we do not wear away.
The sand gets finer
& our skins turn silk.
(Erica Jong)
More Poetry from Erica Jong:
Erica Jong Poems based on Topics: Love, Snow, Pain, Water, Marriage- To Whom It May Concern (Erica Jong Poem)
- The Poem Cat (Erica Jong Poem)
- The Poet Fears Failure (Erica Jong Poem)
- People Who Live (Erica Jong Poem)
- Smoke (Erica Jong Poem)
- Sunday Afternoons (Erica Jong Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Pain Poems, Water Poems, Snow Poems, Marriage PoemsBased on Keywords: chasm, quake, lids, steaming, lapping, major, finer, rub, skins, trough, pad