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your hands aren't welcome here anymore

by Ava Blu

come home with me
- a note beneath the windshield wiper
this is how you earn brag rights,
or how you always throw them away

you didnt even add your name to the bottom
how could one ever forget the way you curl your ts
and allow the e at the end to linger just a little too long

just like us,
lingering too fucking long

you always park far enough away from the door,
where the parking lot cameras cant reach,
the places where even the security guards wont venture

it would be so easy to fuck in your car,
in the front seat, even, with the dark tint on your windows;
weve done it plenty of times

and I know better than to even consider the possibility that
Im the only one to have straddled your face in the backseat;
the stench of someone elses pussy made me want to vomit, once

youve had me bare-chested on the gravel with rocks in my teeth,
and Ive had you begging to be fucked by my strap-on

neither of us believes in pride before sex

Im not going to call you out on
not moving past us fast enough

but I know your new years resolution was to find
someone elses lips to part;

youll find your note tucked neatly inside her purse.

01/12/2009

Posted on 01/13/2009
Copyright © 2026 Ava Blu

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Nanette Bellman on 01/13/09 at 03:26 AM

oooh burn! BRAVO! you deserve an ovation! nice.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/13/09 at 03:27 AM

This one reads a little angrier than usual. But of course, it still has that wonderful restraint on your part. This is clearly nowhere near the top of what your anger is capable of, and I like that. It's a feeling that runs through every great line of this piece, and there's a lot of those.

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