sometimes the words fail you.

I didn't have a good answer for her
at that moment, but here
is what I would say now.

when I was twenty, I was
a live wire, humming with sex;
almost anyone could have me
if they knew enough to ask;
sex came off me in waves
like heat, like flame.
I was incandescent.

and I won't blame the kids entirely
but for years after them I told people
my sexual orientation was tired.

that live wire was wrapped in layers
of insulation, and buried deep
beneath the surface of diapers
and laundry and dishes;
it's hard to think sexy thoughts
when you're covered in vomit.

now sex is a process of excavation
and it takes a dedicated digger
to peel away the muffling layers
to uncover the naked wire.

but thank god, thank god
when finally laid bare
it still sparks and blazes
incandescent.