Disambiguation

i am looking at my leg bent above your thigh
i  am thinking about the picture it makes not
one taken but  a painting  maybe  an erotica    
so not tasteless
     not the thrust just this inter-
          twining

                          just this still scene
so not the trembling the trust

unheard the drawn in gasps against your chest
                            just the
canvas 

                            just
the twinning and also what
makes nothing happen saying  what lasts

the whispering and the secret shades of taste
sweet spoken of later pinks
so reds but even
so
you see differently than me
     not simply
but plainly naturally sincere of heart poles

apart sharp lines perhaps links
so
                                  the picture
less abstract and
so
i am open absorbing impressed upon
imaginings of sighs bent above your thoughts
less circuitous than
the wanderings of a woman’s
                                      mind

and
so i am
always what is left to the           
and also
always as we say
     i really am
fine          even
though
     i am always
thinking   even
of women
you knew that i never knew
thinking how
i do

tending them and
you don’t know
      i am
thinking
of a woman
i know  who
lost a man she had known once who
     i am tucking
in to her
grief
                even now
you don’t see
the silhouette sketch
in shadows or the             shades shifting
because they

are water
you don’t know then
that
      i am thinking
that
       we never
say i love you
 anymore