Post-Coitum Triste

Silence is a gift that comes with the early morning

And so, too, the fallen leaves that lay in patient waiting

What are they waiting for? I wonder

Their lives have already been spent

I consider this mystery as I remember yesterday

Yesterday when I loved a man

I reached for him, felt my body swell toward him

He was warm and strong

Gentle and kind

So I fell in and we began to push and pull, tremble and squeeze

It felt good to open

Felt like a moment of mercy to be simply female, corporeal

Out of my head

Afterward, I lay quietly in the dark

His open palm resting on my hip

And noticed the pulsing warmth that began to rush out like a tide

Felt, for the first time, the bite of cold air at my feet

Drawing them under the covers

I pushed the hair back from my face

And looked up toward the night sky

Sex is like fallen leaves, I thought

While in union with the tree

Connected by our slender threads and stems

Life pulses

And we turn our broad faces to the sun

Collect the dew on our verdant leaves

And then the shudder comes

It escalates and passes

And we release our hold

Falling toward the ground

Flittering, trembling

Disconnected. Separate yet again

We lay on the ground, beneath the tree

And look up toward the bare branches and limbs

Out further to the starry sky

And consider, what next?

How do I be now?