A man is sleeping in my bed

and I don’t know what to make of this situation.

By now it’s technically tomorrow.

I know a few things only: that I am losing my touch

for choosing well, that my bruises last longer,

that wanting tastes as bad as ever. Am I late to class

or does it take everyone so long to learn.

Don’t pick up what isn’t yours.

Get out of bed if you can’t sleep. Leave him

there. Let him sleep. He says he doesn't think of you

but says I want you to come all over me and you

want more than bodily fluid, waterfall of heat.

He did make sure you came. So give him that.

Give yourself a little, too. For allowing yourself pleasure.

For finding your way there. Still your teeth clench

when your mouth is empty, when you hunger. Go back

to bed. Pretend he isn’t there. See, you are learning

about happiness and rest. About the single body,

its pleasured blood seeping under skin.






published in subTerrain