whiskey on his breath
an uneven step
he is kissing me
haphazardly

and i think sex
is a chore
it is the only time i
give myself up
i become a prisoner

sex is violent,
i mean, think about it:
the pounding
the breaking
the clamorous slam of
skin against skin

the growling
as though we are just
animals
fufilling our natural duty

tonight
i give myself up to you
fixate my eyes on the
street lamps outside the window
and hold on tight

12/13/2006

Posted on 12/13/2006
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