Sunday

Lay with me, here.

Hug me, close.

No, not close enough,

closer. I want you

close up inside

and I need you

in me. Fuck! This is not what I want

I want intimacy and I’ve had sex

since taught at six by him

that I was wanted for nothing else.

Sex is intimate only to me

and you call it fucking.

So fuck me, now.

Fuck me fast,

fuck me until I forget how we got

to this place where I no longer know

your name.

Or how we met and you said you

loved my voice and could listen to me

whisper until six in the morning

while my roommate sleeps in the next room.

Fuck me until my need for punishment

dissipates while your cum soaks my cunt

from the inside out.

Fuck me until fifteen years of crying

on the frigid bathroom floor

vanishes, vanquished

by your black dick that mesmerized me

since the sixth day after I met you

on the three train at four in the morning

Sunday night