Hunched over,
Back arched.
Your skinny body sags from your spine,
The lacerations that dumbly allude to your muscles wrap around your back,
So ungraceful.
The light has left you now,
And you're surprised to see me squint,
You've never had to struggle to be seen.
It turns out,
In the mists of eroticism,
When bound by my bleeting breaths,
You sweat the same,
You sweat like the rest of us!
Usually you don't work nearly half this hard,
Usually your hands are on the small of her back,
Adjusting her so her figure will amplify your moans.
Now you are my microphone,
The bruises and indentations are just
The kinks of the thing.
And I watch you bite your lip,
For the first time,
You watch your mouth as the end
Comes.
He's learning.
And I'll snog you whilst you shake,
But I can't stop myself,
When the irony tickles my tongue,
And the exclamations are quick to my teeth,
I can't save you from the snarling.
YOU ARE READING
Confession|ACR 2
PoetryConfession is a poetry anthology that seeks to unnerve and evolve the contemporary style through its brutal analysis of the issues that plague the young, modern zeitgeist. Its judicial theme of confession creates an unforgiving and relentless pace t...
