To understand the erotic carvings on the temples at Khajuraho or Ellora or the myriad archaic ithyphallic Shivas,
Krishnas cupping, ithy-nippled Radhas,
imagine a Sistine Chapel whose high-domed ceiling
is covered with gods and goddesses as perfect lovers
in mystic-erotic embraces,
unable to get enough of themselves inside one another,
drawn by sacred forces of nature
merging the mysteries of their separate gendered bodies
into the oneness.
Halos forming around their heads pineal radiant
“with tail-feathers blazing” as Rumi sang.
Forget everything you ever heard about sex and religion
while remembering everything new.