In the redwood house sailing off <br />into the ocean, <br />I sleep with you- <br />our dreams mingling, <br />our breath coming & going <br />like gusts of wind <br />trifling with the breakers, <br />our arms touching <br />& our legs & our hair <br />reaching out like tendrils <br />to intertwine. <br /> <br />The first time <br />I slept in your arms, <br />I knew I had come home. <br />Your body was a ship <br />& I rocked in it, <br />utterly safe in the breakers, <br />utterly sure of this love. <br />I fit into your arms <br />as a ship fits into water, <br />as a cactus roots in sand, <br />as the sun nestles into the blazing horizon. <br /> <br />The house sails all night. <br />Our dreams are the flags <br />of little ships, <br />your penis the mast <br />of one of the breeziest sailboats, <br />& my breasts floating, <br />half in & half out <br />of the water, <br />are like messages in bottles. <br /> <br />There is no point to this poem. <br />What the sea loses <br />always turns up again; <br />it is only a question of shores.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sailing-home-2/
