You would never have anything
to do with me in the morning,
and I was always such a girl.
(This I mean in the nicest way,
the way my skin smelled sweet
and my cheeks glowed and I
understood motherhood innately.)

I would watch you get dressed,
which you only did with your back
to me. I remember how you call
me an asshole and I love you,
deeply, for the way words form
against your teeth and how your lips
wrap around my cock, I guess,
what I mean to say is that—
it is the only part that cares.

08/20/2007

Posted on 08/20/2007
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