my eyelids are screens
flashing the words
your body is a temple
of the-
“Silk wishes it were
as soft as you,”
Trey interrupts,
blowing hotly in my ear.
And after that, I swear
I don’t remember
much of anything.
Oh, God, oh, God! His hands
mapping every inch of me,
journeying where they shouldn’t be
but, ooooh!
Lord, I know you’ll understand.
you made my skin, Trey’s hand.
I never knew it could feel so-
What’s he doing?
Mmmm. He’s tracing my name
across my belly,
Mister, each letter
wet from his tongue.
God, I’m sorry but
I can’t stop,
don’t want to-
Oh God, oh God, Oh
God will forgive me,
right?
Right?
He sleeps, guiltless.
I slink out of bed,
slither into wrinkled shirt and jeans,
pretend I’m a shadow
creeping across the floor,
slipping out the door,
racing home quick as feet
can meet the air.
But no matter how fast I flee,
step by step
guilt gains on me.
I.
It’s not that I thought
angels would sing,
or the sky would part.
I’m not a kid.
But I did think
there’d be this trade,
that I’d give something up
and he would too.
Instead,
I’m somehow less
and his more
is still locked away
in a mystery
of bone and skin,
and the sin of it
is that I’m empty now,
and keyless.