Ride with Me Sweet Baby Mine
by Susan
Dunn
Date
Ride with me tonight, sweet baby mine,
Let me feel it one more time
Your body plastered to mine
Im one of those mothers who never got enough.
I lusted for all that mixing and draping,
Bean bag bodies, bellies, breasts and butts
Everything soft and blending, the utter willingness of it all!
No bony knees, no sharp words, no hard rejections,
And nothing to negotiate.
Unconcerned about losing your precious ego boundaries*,
And confident in your ability to perform,
You courted me without restraint, my tiny lover,
And joyously accommodated, molding yourself to me
Like a piece of dough around a bakers mold.
Youd just as soon be part of me, and Id just as soon let you.
I was your first mother, and you were my last baby,
So neither of us held back, oh the gay abandon of it all!
I laid you on my chest, heart to heart,
So yours would learn to beat like mine,
And slept with your rosebud mouth against my ear
So I would learn your secrets,
And we came to know each other well.
My breasts were full, your stomach was empty
We reversed the situation, everyone was happy
Filling what needed filling, emptying what needed emptying
In one harmonious mix of bodies and fluids and desires
And I had nursing-baby-orgasms it ought to have a name
That broke wide and low, as nectar is to fruit juice,
As velvet is to corduroy, as honey is to wine,
Why cant sex be like that?
When youd had your fill you lay back smiling
With milk running out the side of your mouth
Thanking me shamelessly with languid eyes
For being the perfect mother
Stroking my breast or face with your fingers
As no lover had, or has, or is, or will, or probably even should.
The bliss you gave me,
The bliss you gave me,
Made up for all the rest.
Please come into my dreams tonight
Oh long lost baby of mine
And let me touch you one more time.
Let me touch you one more time.
Im one of those mothers who never got enough
And youd been gone from babyhood long before you died.
*
the
struggle men wage their entire lives to resist the yearnings for reunion with
mothers
and their female surrogates. To yield is to invite dissolution of the sustaining
integrated
structures of thought, affect, and defensive organization that form the stable
sense of self,
and to risk primordial anxiety."
Narration of Desire, Wrye & Welles
Susan Dunn was blessed with two sons, Neil Marshall,
named for his father
and Samuel Chester, named for his grandfather. These boys were born
ten years apart and were as opposite as could be.