Wet
fingers clutch
hard/soft stroke
scratching lips like a car crash.
It’s nights like this when I’m reminded
how important it is to fuck before marriage.
Because not all bones are compatible
and despite that
fast/slow tough touch
kind of feeling.
we are not good at having sex with each other.
I really didn’t want to have to write this poem.
I was hoping this
would be a sexy recollection
of our sleepless night
but I slept more than I expected
and got less than I desired
the sweat wasn’t sweet,
our hands became clumsy,
clammy and holding fast hoping we
were both dreaming.
We weren’t dreaming,
we just should never crash our bits together
ever again because
I’m pretty sure you faked it
and I didn’t even bother to.
An unexpected stop/start
ride (literally)
like anyone who’s learning to
drive stick.
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