You May

This poem is about sex, and about life, but mostly about sex (just in case you aren’t up for a sexy poem presently). One of my main offerings as a therapist is to grant permission. For it all, here a meditation on allowing.

This photo was taken at The Graduate Hotel in Columbia, South Carolina. The hotel walls are ice cream sherbet colored with art gathered from thrift stores. I like to imagine the creatures in the portraits felt they may.

You May

You may
Use lube
Use your hand
You may Come
Or Not come
You may
Say let’s cuddle
Or touch me here
You may.

You may be soft
Or hard
You may be tight
Or loose
You may lose
You may want more
You may want it
Brighter
Darker
Softer
Harder
Faster
Slower
Different
You may be difficult
You may ask
And ask again.

You may feel nothing
You may feel everything
You may thrash
Or be very still
You may change your mind
You may want
Closeness
Cherishness
You may be
Deliciousness.

You may
Use a pillow
Use a vibrator
Use a fantasy
You may be a shell
Curled in
You may be a morning dove
Softly cooing
You may mourn
You may moan
You may pulse or rock
With moaning
And mourning.

You may change
And roll away
You may stay
You may make mistakes
And make some more
You may make messes
You may be stressed
You may be less
You may be more
Be More
You may.

You may
Play
You may not
Know
How
You may remember
You may learn
You may feast and lay fallow
You may allow
You may be deep
You may or may not swallow
You may rest
Close and open
Open throated
You may.

You may be timid
And tired
You may howl and half howl
You may squirm
You may cool
and freeze
You may ignite
You may whine
You may warm
You may harm
You may be harmed.

You may be sorry
You may worry
You may give
Forgive
And be forgiven
You may love
And be loved.
You may
You may live.