inexperience is a bitch

you should have been cold fire in my cunt,
molten silver rivers in the veins of my thighs
and you should have been the shimmer on my hipbones
of moonlight and that led zeppelin song that was playing;
you should have been the fire which made mist of skin moist
with sex-liquor
i should have been drunk on your love

instead i’ve been sober from the first time you touched me
and darling, i don’t like it so much

i’ve always dreamed of junkies with crumpled paper wings
and satin eyelids purpled with inebriation
sandpaper tongues caressing the crude silk of my lungs,
my throat, my flesh
and you should have been the drug to drain me. you should have
made the stars like pricks in a tin can to the blaze of your body on mine
but you didn’t.

and all i keep thinking is sex isn’t what it’s cracked up to be
and wonder if maybe it wasn’t you that dulled things to embers,
but me.

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