These

The laughter as we tumble into awareness.  The first inhale when we lean back for a moment’s rest.  The widening of our eyes as we come into focus.  The sharp gasps as we lose ourselves into each other.  The rush of our panting as we collide.  The droop of our eyelids as we slip out…

So Foreign to Me

The way people talk about 50 Shades of Gray like some remote, strange concept to them. I thought it was desperately vanilla at many points.

Apart

The marks you left are already fading, faint yellow traces of our clutching and writhing.  As I step into the shower, the scent of you washes down my face and I inhale the very last bit of you before it can be replaced with distance.  I smile as I discover little hairs and crumbles of…

2007: Whiplash

I write about sex as if it’s something beautiful, but it’s not.  It’s two bodies smashing together, doused in sweat and unmet expectations.  There is nothing beautiful about lying under someone who is rocking back and forth to some foreign beat as you dig and claw into their flesh to try to bring them back…

Chapstick

my lips are buzzing tingling with the tension of faded muscle memory aching to once more feel fingertips and feverish pressing and parting and the desperate delighted hum of want

Video Store

Every time I read something that I’ve written,it’s like viewing abeautiful pornographyof all the things I’ve managed to stifle,the little dust bunnies of concernthat I’ve hidden in skeleton-filled pantries.I find myself recounting someasinine momentthat I’ve painted in vague groans,sweat and salivaspilled across something smooth and taut.These phrases build,panting and undulatingas they slap together in someprimal…