Impossible Intimacy

The intimacy of lovers may rest
On their shared ideals, tastes and interests.
The sexual may complete a spectrum
That still can shine with one faded colour.
Erotic closeness of opposites thrills  
Like a tightrope walker without a net.
 
'You ready now?- with a slight twist of her head
Towards the bedroom as carelessly
As switching on a household appliance.
It was a warm and sunny afternoon,
So perfect for a love making enhanced
By what all five senses could bring.
 
Such a change from an hour berating me
On matters personal and domestic
To casual erotic suggestion.
Her appetite and its satiation
Were genuine. For she could never hide
Changes in skin texture. Her satisfaction  
Revealed in open spores and loose flesh.
 
Her cursory invitation set me alight.
I forgot the hurt and the resentment
At her verbal assault. Her body odour  
And touch magnetised. She said the same
Of mine. I had to believe. Since when had
She thought to hold back on my many faults?
 
Why was there such desire in unison?
She was too much a metropolitan
With big city tastes and extravert ways.
Winning people over was her forte.
And me?- at heart still just a country boy,
Happy enough thinking, reading, writing
Without too many people obtruding.
Was there no other way but flesh on flesh
That we could meet and become as one?
 
I wanted her and needed her simply
Because she was not me, but my opposite.
She needed me as reminiscence
Of her long discarded other self.
But could it last? A battle for control
And identity was inevitable
And threatened all. The tightrope must snap.