S & L
How do they do it, sex— without love? All Hands tongues desire working in tandem to Rip the body apart, as if. He wants a piece of me To replace his own. I do not mind it rough hot wet Wet as rain slick-walking in shoes with no sole
Primeval forces muddy the brain ' s reason He gnashes his teeth, eyes clench shut I move in deep, then deeper still until I hear His short intakes of breath Oh Jesus God Damn Please, don ' t, stop, give me more. More. Yes
Harder faster. Oh baby. I ' m gonna— come. I ' m gonna. Come. Now. Can you feel me? Fill me up. Now. Nothing fake about these moans. And then— my knees too weak to walk. Still Sweat on my brow, I think only about recovery. So, you thought you owned your body— too.
I smell the after-smell of birth and death Too late for any regrets. I roll the sensation Between my fingertips, his DNA beneath My fingernails and I imagine— this is the stuff The universe is made. So why do they do it— Playing witness to their own spent desires, as if
Always, expecting a surprise. Ending
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