Having My Way with You
You ride me into the late light like your good horse
and, because it reminds you of how they once
described women in Victorian romances, you say,
"I'm having my way with you." What a thing
for a woman to say to a man, I think to myself,
looking up at your white cheeks gone rosy
with the thrust of me, as if you were both Iseult
the Fair and Iseult of the White Hands at once,
and I feel the pleasure of your pleasure
and the pleasure of my own, and realize
we may all yet rise into the good light of love
from a position of helplessness, that this
may be the thing all lovers wish for: you
having your way with me having my way with you.
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