Death is always with me, inside of me, and layered behind what’s in front of me. The life we see swirling all around us is fueled by death. What lived before is part of us. My ancestors speak through me. Plants and fish that died help form my body. The earth is full of minerals, living things, and things that died.
I can lose what I most love at any moment. My spouse who I love more than anything, going out to run an errand, might never come home. When I kiss them goodbye, it could always be the big goodbye.
Of course, kissing them hello when they come home is also the big hello. Love is everywhere. Does everyone think about death all day? How tightly do I hold on?
It’s one thing to have death constantly in mind, and another to be tortured by fear. The intensity comes and goes. Sometimes death fear can motivate me to treat mundane life with the pleasure and gravity it deserves. Last night was one of those times.
sex
“Is it ok if I go in your ass?” I asked.
“Yes,” my spouse said.
“Would you enjoy that?” I asked.
“Yes,” my spouse said.
They had waited for me as I attended an organizing meeting for a community project that matters to us. Then we had sex. They lay in bed, and I stood next to the bed. I pet their legs, arms, tummy. Then I sucked their dick.
Then I lay down on them. I put a lot of my weight on their naked body, to kiss them and rest.
Then I sucked their dick some more, kissed their balls, and enjoyed the interplay of effort and pleasure. Lying on top of them again, “can you breathe?” and kisses to their shoulders, face, and mouth.
I slipped my tongue in their mouth–they were sleepy. They had fallen asleep while I was in the meeting. I licked at them greedily, then sucked their dick some more.
ass
“Do you wanna turn over?” I asked. “Can I spray you with rosemary and pray for you before I enter your ass?”
“Yes,” they said.
They had given me a glove from their stash of PPE from their side of the bed.
Yes, it was that kind of prayer. This person could die at any moment. This person is worth more than gold, but will leave us one day. My prayer was for blessing– thanking. Sex is pleasure and love, but also to honor them.
I sprayed my spouse with the rosemary spray which is protective. I touched their back, their round ass cheeks, their muscular thighs, their strong calves, their substantial shoulders. This body that’s so familiar to me, sometimes taken for granted, is a miracle filled with Mystery. So mortal and finite. We love that specificity, but the specific will die.
prayer
“Holy Mother, Mother of God, please bless this beautiful being,” I began, touching my spouse’s body as the rosemary spray dried. “Thank you for this person who is so dear and wanted. Please bless them as they do the work of love. Please protect their health and all their systems, and all that they do.”
Sleepy but so alive. I was appreciating my spouse to a full extent, praising God for their life.
“Please help me treat this person respectfully. Thank you for their gifts and honesty. Please help them tell the truth, and bless their place in our family. Thank you, and we love you.”
There’s the idea of regret. If they die tomorrow, it would destroy me for a while. But at least I would know that sometimes, I honored them for who they actually are.
“Can I enter your ass now?” I asked my spouse.
rosemary
The lube bottle and the rosemary spray bottle look almost the same. I accidentally sprayed some rosemary on my gloved hand and laughed.
“Is it ok if a little rosemary goes in your ass?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said.
I put the lube on my gloved hand and slid my fingers into my spouse’s ass crack, touching their asshole, and talking to them in a mood of the prayer.
“You are so important to me,” I said. “I love you so much. You are a free person, and I respect your freedom very much. But for this moment, in this bed, you are with me.”
They were sleepy, face down, ass up.
“Does this feel good?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said.
“Can I enter you?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said.
I slid my middle finger into my spouse’s ass and asked, “Is this good?”
“Yes,” they said.
My cunt throbbed with desire as I felt the vulnerability and reality of my spouse’s life. Yes, death is real, and love is also real.
then
“I’m going to remove my hand from your ass now,” I said. “Is that ok?”
“Yes,” my spouse said.
I peeled off the glove inside out and asked if I could suck my spouse’s dick some more. They turned over.
I’d lit a candle on my altar.
“That’s for you,” I said. “It’s to be romantic.”
death
This age of 59 that my spouse is, my dad died at the age of 59, overdose, by his own hand.
I’m sorry I had previously believed that my spouse was a tough person and owed me anything. Through some gender perception mixup 14 years ago, I initially misunderstood my spouse as a man, and men as cruel. I’m sorry that even after I learned my spouse is be nonbinary, I still considered them a man in some way.
The first time I entered my spouse’s ass was an intense emotional experience of realizing my spouse’s mortality and sweet vulnerability. I felt like a gay man for the first time. Also I felt protective as I learned that my spouse is as hurtable as I am. Their ass is as valid as my vulva. Their ass is a place I can love the way they love my body also.
I was transformed by anal sex–it happens to the best of us. So I had been craving to do the deed and reenact the knowledge-receiving moment.
I climbed onto my spouse’s back and put some weight on them, like I had put weight on their front.
“Is this hurting you?” I asked.
“No, its good,” my spouse said.
cuddle
Then I climbed into bed with them, and we both masturbated in a cuddly way. I had been humping the corner of the bed as I went down on them. We came, cuddled, and they went to take a shower.
It was a good date–I blew out the candle.
