i forgot the part where

i bit his finger, taking the roughness
into my mouth in increments: a bit of fingernail,
the first ridges of the print tickling me,
cupping first with my torn lips and then
(growing braver) with my teeth,
a suckling babe guided by other fingers on my lips
parting them slowly as he reached for my breast
in demonstration of perfect symbiosis.
his skin was faintly salty and my free arm,
pressed into the strange heat between his legs
made me realize we were probably together
in wishing that finger had been his cock.

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