I finally got to have you.
How tragic that someone so
emotionally unavailable
becomes an animal
in my bed.
You suck and pull
with such fervor and desperation
as though
I am the sweetest fruit on earth.
I marvel at the artist
who can be so cruel to my physique
yet simultaneously worship
and inhale my skin and
twist my figure into the exact sculpture
you wish me to be.
Your deft fingers and mouth
attack my chest,
your teeth marking false claims.
In another time,
I might've let it
conflate my ego.
I know where the lines are drawn.
And
after all that I have gone through,
even artificial intimacy
is my salvation.
I should be allowed
to run free.
