The real evolution in sex
is mind intercourse.
Not the sexual fantasy
of pornography
but an orgasm of the intellect.

The intimacy connection
of true communication.
The experience of closeness
that lodges in a memory cell
and revives many
a pleasurable feeling.
The ability to stimulate
a nerve ending
by your absence
not your presence.
Caressed by ideas.

The touch that generates power,
not the moribund demands
of a dead battery.
When the vagina journeys
are completed
and the penis emissions
are depleted
and moans are
no longer from satisfaction
but from complaints.

The sex drive was designed
for procreation.
No matter what diversions
we have decorated it with
or perversions
we have degraded it to.
What tricks have our hormones played?

We have been the giddy feeling
of dopamine.
The pounding heart drama
of adrenaline.
Oxytocin for commitment.
Love is a chemical cocktail.
You both crystallize at the interface.
Separate—you are—
incommensurate.
Together you bond.

Cinderella runs—
but by the fourth year
Prince Charming doesn’t follow.
The cocktail wears off.
Her attraction is hollow.
They are not happy.
They stay together out of habit.
Held together by apathy
faded dreams and bitter regrets.
Inertia rules !

Go in search of the mind
on a higher plane
than the body that engulfs it.
The spirituality of sexuality.
But if you grovel in mechanical sex—
are fooled by pornography
or guilty of the rape crime,
then I cannot persuade you
to look any further.
You are lost—
and I am wasting my time.