Sex Is Not Important

1.
Sex is not important. That’s why
we have conversation. In the dark,
the unforgivable dark, it’s hope
that’s important, and hope
is something I do alone.


2.
So here comes the unfortunate part.
Sisters/Brothers/, forgive me:
what we always love about the other
man/woman/ is that she/he/ doesn’t care;
he’s got an itch he’s going to scratch;
she’s going to lick you like a puppy
hungry for your salt;
he’s going to cry out and he’s going to fall,
sweating and flushed and finished,
beside your trembling.
She’s going to keep her eyes open and her mouth shut.
And he’s going to leave you, not knowing what he’s left.


3.
It’s not your body, is it,
that glows in the night,
and it’s not me,
that woman in the hotel room,
doing all that wanting?

It can’t be. I’m too smart
for all this; too smart to disturb
these hospital corners
with this unaccountable thrashing.

It must be my mind.
It’s oozing.
It’s evaluated the situation
and suggested
that my back should arch,
arch, arch. Oh!

you’re so interesting.
When we’re ourselves
again, we really should
talk about this.

Have you ever seen
those teenagers clenched
on street corners,
repetitively touching lips?
I think it’s because
they have nothing to say.

But you and I
have so much in common:
this, for example,
and that.


4.
Sex is not important. That’s why
we have everything else: friends,
husbands, work, books, politics,
postcards, art, and poetry.
That’s why, when the telephone rings,
we answer. That’s why
we wake up in the morning,
sick to our stomach with dreams,
and ready to live.


5.
That’s why I have my circle game:
no one here but me and my abstract fame.

Everything unspoken
an endearment.

A woman’s nipple-mine-

finds a finger.

- Jan Heller Levi