A Miracle to Be Repeated

I remember the blue glow of our living room.  
I fell into a strange cocoon of pleasure while  
watching Rachel "making out" on our favorite show, Glee.  
I didn’t remember my mother in the room or  
the world outside as my hands  
danced beneath me.

My own fingers bringing sweet quivers  
to the newfound center of me felt like  
a miracle, but I would later learn is was  
a miracle to be repeated often.