#sex poem

We had always been hot-blooded, but cool to the touch

protecting each other from the heat that would surely have been us

the sweat, the pulse of our bodies, intertwined and trembling

the vulnerability that comes with knowing each other’s pleasure.

For too long we tried desperately

to mitigate the damage,

you and I (a forest fire) encroaching on a tiny village of restraint.

Slow burning (at first), but burning steadily still,

and moving inward

until we had burned that village down and began dancing

in the flames.

Your body,

no longer cool to the touch, but red hot and wide open.

I should’ve stayed with him tonight. I should’ve let him put his hands in my hair and dig his nails into my back. I should’ve pressed my hip bones against him and took out all my anger with my teeth in his shoulder. I should’ve almost said your name and collapsed into an unfamiliar bed. But instead I lay awake in mine, drinking up the poison you left for me instead.