sacred rape

Every conjugal relationship

that is sweet still

has sacred rape.

Behind the behavior,

beneath the appearances,

unannounced by voice or action,

there are images, fantasies,

and intentions

that represent self-isolation

in the subtle objectification

of the other person.

Androgyny, in timelessness,

is not always the full measure

of what is taken

from what is offered.

However the exchange,

there are levels

of conscious involvement

that desperately speak

the language of isolation.

Even the notion of gratification

as a just reward

takes positions

of self-pronouncement.

However grand the experience,

there are

unacknowledged motivations

and secret intentions

directing this account

well beyond the chemistry

and the fluids

and the hormones

and the physicality.

There are other facets at work,

other elements

that conjure and redirect

each second by second

of the mind’s eye account.

We metaphorically

only know of the heads

on the glaciers

in the dimness

of internally altered states

as it were to speak for

the essential truth

of what is occurring.

Where it is timeless,

however short those interludes,

we speak of very little

beyond the experiential depictions

in summary of what happened.

Ultimately, it may be the nature

of subjectivity

that decries every act of intercourse

from a separate singular point of view.

No one

within normal cultural persuasion

escapes this subjective rendering.

It seems to register

among the highlights

of each person’s individual

emotional life experiences

and yet technically, by all accounts,

there are some if not most

of the red flags associated with rape

that pass as this process without notice.

Is it then that rape

is not the party of the action

as much as it is

the party of the reaction

that brings the frame

of society’s inquiry

as to what has happened?

There then is the introduction

of all of the gross frames of reference

as society’s way

of ineptly accounting for a world

it has no entry into directly.

It there by has invented

a set of labored techniques

to render by gross depiction,

label by act,

judge by declared motive a physicality

that is really an end result

to a long and hidden line

of “psyche to psyche” acting out

of the subtlety of life’s traumas,

primal drives, vibes, and otherwise

personally interpreted

private emotional circumstances.

Where is there not the living

from sacred rape?

From our first coupled act

to the deepest physical expression

of love, we eventually share

with another as sexual,

where has the edginess of insularity

given way to a “oneness of beings”?

Is this “oneness of beings”

forever a time-honored contradiction

surely in the minds

if not the hearts

of all of us?