Intellectual Stimulation

I spent an hour this afternoon at Phillipe's house
Where spices are in mason jars and the tea mugs are hand-thrown
Snow in the driveway means it was a slippery journey
And we sit on the couch discussing writing

I am across from Judy, and it's her piece we're gnoshing
What does it mean?
And what is the real context here?
And when you say "he was my lover..." [is that permanent]

[maybe - we've been together 9 years now - but it didn't feel like that then]

I sip tea like there is never going to be another cup of it
"Mild caffeine?", Phillipe says, as the kettle squeals and his lover wanders through on a cell phone conference call meeting wearing women's leggings and running shoes:

[he reminds me of a centaur and I can't help staring]

I want to feel this way always
Incessant longing but able to spill it over and into and throughout the room
Longing for meaning and anticipating the filling of all my holes like pudding and more solid objects: round hard cylinders...

Conversation is sexual with artists.