Hey, sexy

"Hey, sexy" - he says to me.
As its its OK to speak this way.
As if we don't merely play in the field, but run behind the barn, and corrale the sun, and poke fun at everyone,
and get naked and have fun.
But the truth is much more complex and much more free.
The fragility of our situation is obvious to the oblivious,
and thick as mud to those on guard who stand and frown, looking all mad and down.
The ache is a reminder of the mistake of that first look,
the breath that it took to clue us in to each other's origins.
And the pain? its the disdain for the ordinary, for the mundane,
a relief from the pounding boring incessant plainness,
the lameness that can't tame us.
***
But the doubts remain, like big red poppies in a green field on a clear day.
My arms are here, out of harms way,
out of the way of the soft sheets and clear drops that falls where he remains,
and it will only stop rainig when I say...