The satin sheets allowed us to use

the billowy white pillow cases for sails

where on your hair splayed

as if blown there by the wind;

I took my long breath amazed

at the sight

while being the oarsman stroking my oar

sailing your body sleek

and you my propeller moving me-

we both breathing-

both contributing to the gathering water spout;

where thrashing waves explode beneath;

where crests and troughs

meet

where finally all oxygen is inhaled;

tremendous expirations

blow an indoor summer breeze

until there is beneath us

only the calm, glassy sea

of our satin sheets,

pleated and unpleated,

marking our love-making there.