A Sub’s Song
waves of passion steam
the windows gasping
for air as you fill me
deep
Truck bouncing in
dim street lights
Like naughty teenagers who
cant bear to wait
We connect sweat
dripping hands
gripping
faces nuzzling
bodies pushing
deeper always further
Closer
[le petit mort
I finally understand
not an ending but
ascending
we open the door
to heaven]
time stretches on
we don’t disconnect
You hold me
All safety and strength
And I
All softness and warmth
unspoken comfort
bodies close with
dripping bliss
Narcissist
You can't see beyond your own reflection
your own imperfections
what a stunted existence
how sad and addicting
contagious and bewitching.
You pulled me down with you
sucked into your reflection
reassuring and absolving
all your imperfections.
For you I cast aside
my needs and my desires
my childhood traumas
my own magic and fire-
disappearing slowly
to die on your pyre.
_____________________________________
I see now that we were never lovers,
I was merely your audience.
The Two Month Dream
In the dark bar our eyes were locked
broken only by glances at each other’s smile
and your brief cigarette breaks
where I sat, long purple dress
and a soda float in hand.
Those days I took your nonchalance as mystery.
More bar nights, less eye contact
only a brief squeeze of my knee
as I sat alone
in a crowded room.
Each time another man would ask “are you ok?”and I would offer
the same sad smile I’ve seen on women my whole life.
Later you held me as I drunkenly cried
rare tears of insecurity
saying softly “baby please, I love you”.
Yet in the morning you stared
silently out the kitchen window.
Perhaps you never saw the universe in me after all.
A Ghost in the Kitchen
I thought he saw me
I thought he saw the table, freshly laid out-
a meal so beautiful it was art.
I thought he saw me
standing there in my dress and apron
hair disheveled from stovetop heat.
Did he think I was beautiful?
Was he thanking the heavens for
finding a woman like me?
I couldn’t tell you, honestly.
His silence is loud and
I feel my petals falling-
dying off for lack of sunlight
on a fragile heart.