Requit
She is phone sex
with a hold button,
porno with a Woody
Allen length plot
you never see
the end of.
She is jealous of
other women
rejecting me,
wondering if "no"
sounds sexier
in their voices.
She waits for
the latest chapter
of my can’t-have-her
poetry, still demands
a performance after
other nighttime reading.
She wants me to be
the biggest fan
who never held her,
dirty laundry
on the side of the bed
reserved for me.
1 comment:
Whoa.
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