poet: andoy castellano
the sex of a long friendship, is the act which is not physical.
it is the smile,
the slight caress of the palm,
the pinch of the cheeks, or the nose,
a wiggling of the nose to raise the eyeglasses,
it is communicating a need,
a short discourse, perhaps,
a hunger of the soul to feed.
it is asking: “have you eaten?”, or just asking: “coffee?”
let the eye stray, or wander,
and maybe the paths might diverge,
it is not fate, or destiny, which will rule,
but that compass at the back of your mind,
of the wish for peace,
a longing for serenity,
of companionship without asking,
without regret, without restraint, and always with utmost respect,
that the bodies will come,
but only if, and only if,
the sex is with the soul.