Sometimes we liked our sex bare boned,
stripped of words and niceties
Your mouth on mine was more to choke
than to coax a tender response
One look was all it took.
I would accelerate from neutral to 100mph without a seatbelt.
You splayed my thighs like wishbones
Scrambled legs for breakfast
Bared bones
We wrote atonal music with our bodies:
The percussive sounds of pelvic triangles,
The misshapen sounds of a clavicle
turned into cavalier
We became yeast, single-celled
Rising in our moist heat.
But bare bones offer no padding to ease
The chills of after-thrills sex. When you left
There was no bodice to tuck my heart into,
No carapace to mask the yearning.
Limbs fall into random heaps with no one to support my axis.
My voice finally finds its perfect pitch, “Don’t go.”
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