Maybe to know sex fully / one has to risk being destroyed by it.
~Sharon Olds, “Know-Nothing”

I am not a wild child
but when my mother died
I made a pact with something dark

that I would do anything to distract
myself from the aching, bleeding grief.
I hunted for men who seemed interesting,

who would understand I wanted intimate touch,
sometimes furiously fed, sometimes tender.
I found three men and in three nights, I was

with each of them. No sex, just kissing
these new lips and necks and chests and ears;
some cheeks were rough

with stubble and I used the slight pain as punishment,
as if I had to atone for my sins.
One cheek was boyish, creamed skin –

the one I invited over out of the blue.
We sat on the couch not saying anything
for a while, but soon we were in my bed,

our upper torsos naked, then he took
off his pants as I stroked him and as he
breathed heavier and asked if there was anything

he could do to please me, I said, just let me
do this, let me the cum float on my breasts,
let me exist only here with you,

stranger having nothing to do with her.

12/29/2006

Posted on 12/29/2006
Copyright © 2026 Lisa Marie Brodsky