David R. Weiss — March 30, 2025

One of the near certain side-effects of prostate surgery is erectile dysfunction. In my case, because the cancer had invaded one of the neurovascular bundles alongside my prostate, I lost that bit of critical “wiring” responsible for both the nerve messaging and the blood flow that make erections happen. The other NV bundle was at least partially spared, but also inevitably “injured” by the surgery. Even when it recovers, there’s no guarantee it will be functional by itself.

In a best-case scenario it will be months—or longer—before I have another erection. Maybe never again without the help of pills, devices, or injections. Still, the removal of the prostate does not lessen libido, nor does it compromise one’s capacity to feel pleasure, although it distinctly reshapes it in a host of ways. That’s for another post.

This post honors the silver thread that we can attest remains unchanged …

Invocation

What is it, when we make love,
except this—that we beckon,
invite, and orchestrate
a Presence
far more
than the sum of our parts?

As though drawing a pentagram
between us—upon us,
we mark out the five points,
the five consummate promises,
of our touch.

First, trust, that we
choose to be entirely vulnerable,
surrendering ourselves
to each other.

Second, grace, that
in this moment
we center our longing
on the other’s joy.

Third, attention, that we
revel with rapt devotion
to each response,
from subtle shiver
to seismic shake,
so that our touch
guides—and is guided by—
the other’s longing.

Fourth, wonder, that we
open ourselves fully
to the song that sings itself
through us,
as we listen with our limbs
in happy awe.

And fifth, pleasure, that we
commit our senses
to this compass,
not because it is our final goal,
but because it knows
the way.

As each of these five points
lights up,
outlining and enacting
this pentagram of promises,
our anticipation builds.

No matter how often
we’ve been here before,
each time this moment welcomes us,
familiar-yet-fresh,
glistening and glad.

We move in tandem, in turn,
in tenderness,
until—
held within these points of reverence
our pleasure—
your pleasure, my pleasure—
our trembling together
indeed, becomes an invocation
to Something More than Pleasure.

To a Presence
more than either of us,
more than both of us;
between and beyond us—
a Presence
in which it is our Good Fortune,
and our Deep Honor
simply to be.
Together.

For sure, we do so, no less
in many of the mundane moments
of this life we share—
no less!

But in this moment,
by intention—and attention,
we know with exquisite ecstasy
the truth of Presence
that wraps us wholly together
until we are
breathless with joy.

David R. Weiss – 2025.03.30