And I thought of you....

This Thing Not Mistaken For


Parting my lips (cherry
petals against the pale
of my eyes) you said

(pressing me down)
surrender to this open jaw
of lust, give in
(your sex so loud in my ears)

you hurt (you coaxed out
the mewing of sensation)
with your passion:
all bruises fade to this color,
the color of the suit you wear

(fuck you, I am not
your business
transaction)
fuck the frost shell
from my skin instead

(your sex has no dominion
but the open maw of this
exchange does
me
in)

In spent sheets we survey
the mess (not
love, this word
spoken, a
foreign country)

(you say
this as afterthought)
you have a pretty cunt.

(Lust spent, my eyes
no longer have any color
you care to name.)