Friday, March 14, 2014

slants and slates, rosetta in the air

i cried into his chest hair today

last night the 43 took me past super laundry

and i remembered joe flipping out one night at city limits laundromat&tanning

driving away at 2a

because i was still in too much pain

to have sex

and insisting that blowjobs really were acts of love and all i could manage

anal sex with him--his girth--no, never again

the once...i spent three days crying and mostly abed

and he said

THEN PROVE YOU LOVE ME AND FUCK ME HERE IN THE PARKING LOT WHILE OUR CLOTHES DRY

he came back

not so apologetic but calm enough, steaming

but always with the FUCK ME IN THIS PUBLIC PLACE OR I WILL ROB YOU

LEAVE YOU STRANDED FOR SOMEONE TO RAPE OR KILL

and

streaming onto his ribcage both eyes discharged

but he insisted on hugging me so sobs broke the rivulets into waves

and i told him

and about, also

the sex with joe: i always loved him, every second

but i was never a participant

it was always too

the pain, so i could never move, he drove into me like tiger woods drove into two spectators rivulets of blood

painful

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