Bliss and Nirvana, Come and Gone

Your latest obsession
fascinates the fleas;
we lie down with them
and wake with satyr's horns,
rhapsodic about Ecstasy;
we are reborn here,
in the hills,
among the daffodils.

The night is a scream
of full-throated darkness
iced with passion thawed
within the veins
of pantomime players
in fast cars.

The quartered face,
black and white
and white and black
reversals of itself,
of ourselves,
of our lives
lived in shadowy grays
between polarities
of being and becoming,
existence and nothingness,
bliss and nirvana,
come and gone.

The top of the stairs
and the landing
and the bedroom;
you are as familiar
with this house of mine
as if it were your own.

My breasts and pubes
and buttocks, my thighs
and my scrotum, my balls
high inside the taut flesh--
you are as familiar with me
as I am with you;
we live inside each other's heads,
in each other's dreams,
bliss and nirvana,
come and gone.