I'm sorry I took your virginity, it's just that
I was so sad and we were so drunk and you were so eager,
and I kind of thought it was cute that it was your first time
and it kind of went to my head that you wanted me to be your first,
and you were warm when I was cold
and you were dry when I was drowning
and now I fear that I've chilled you and drug you into the water with me,
and do your bones ache like mine yet?

You left bruises on my thighs;
that's not a metaphor,
I have blue splotches where you held me
and I've never been ****** like that,
never been ****** like I was supposed to enjoy it.
You were the first person to ever care if I was comfortable,
you were the first person I ever laughed with during ***,
you were the first person I ever laid with afterwards
and you let me hold your hand and rest my head on your chest
and your heart was beating so hard
and the room was dark
until we had to find our clothes scattered on the floor,
and you laughed when I tried to hide myself
and I guess it's just easier for me to show myself when the lights are off,
when you can't see my scars,
Jesus Christ I hope you didn't see my scars,
those are the only piece of myself I care about keeping private.

You dropped me off at home later
and as I got out of the car you thanked me and I just laughed
because I didn't know how to say that
I don't want you to think of it as a favor,
I didn't ******* out of pity,
I ****** you out of loneliness and ***** and cold hands,
and I'm sorry I took your virginity but you were the best I ever had.

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.

I quarantined myself in a still pool
tranquil and floating, waiting for the ice
to finally freeze my turbid heart
into a more peaceful *****.

On the shore you saw me
or I saw you
and perhaps I was a lighthouse
or perhaps you were a lifeboat,
gliding from the banks
you poured yourself in like hot oil.

As you slipped over my arms, legs, torso, face,
you breathed into my ear a steady stream of prophecy and promise
-It's not right for a woman like you to be alone. You are built to give.

And so I felt your mouth seal over mine
and allowed you to inhale the starry swirls of life
I had been conserving for winter.

As you pulled me far deeper with you
we could not emulsify
but we became inseparable.

a sunshine fighter by nature
his shallow grave face
with its half buried flickers of fury
gives way to the lesser demon's like smiles
while he suffers the hopeless romance
of a cute girl who wants to lick
his carved biceps like a neo-glitter kitty kat
naughty naughty
he cringes all over with the
desperate grins that break out all over him
naughty naughty indeed