i want, i want, i want…

to devour the crimson arch of her lips 

the lazy lean of her long limbs

i want to consume

to annihilate

that pure stretch of bone and sinew 

to strip away the rude vestige of humility keeping my hunger razor sharp.

insolent innocence—- give up and in already 

slide to my side of the booth 

slip those slender fingers inside the wound

salted sweetness, burning as it goes down.

carry me over the threshold

sweaty hands sliding on the white satin skirt, the last trace of girlhood soon gone.

perspiration hanging heavy on bare skin

a veneer of manners washed away in newfound knowledge.  

there’s something soft under my cheek.

maybe- her hair. her worn tee shirt. the up and down of her heart, a clock ticking more regular than the one on my bedside table.

maybe- just my pillow. maybe just my own palm, the softest resting place for this heavy head of mine.