but it was too messy to call it making love

my hair got in his mouth
his hips were too low
my legs got in the way
the angles just weren't right
it took us a few tries
to just "get it in"

there weren't roses or candles
i was in a white bra and *******
there was no black lingerie
i had shaved my legs in the morning
but i still had stubble in the places i missed
he wasn't tall dark and handsome
i wasn't white skinny and ****

we didn't know what we were doing
and if we could see ourselves
i'm sure we'd have died of embarrassment
seeing the mess of arms and legs
and body parts in awkward positions

but maybe that was the whole point
we laughed
and we laughed
he had a lopsided smile
and he smelt like home
his touch was comfortable
and his mouth lit a fire inside me
those eyes were full of greed
for not my body, but for me
it wasn't "him" and "me"
we were a we
and together we went through the journey
of discovery
finding out how our bodies work
when they are with another
finding out which curve fits where
learning where to put my hands
when he climbed up on my hips
learning how his body responded
when mine arched in pain and pleasure

his exhausted body
holding on to mine for dear life
no one mentions the sweat in your eyes
or that urgent need to ***
no one tells you that maybe you won't bleed
and maybe your favorite song won't be in the background
and maybe you don't walk out a woman, no longer a girl
no one tells you that *** isn't this magical thing that stops your whole world

but they leave out the good bits too
there's so much they don't tell you
like how, when it's over, he whispers *i love you
how his gaze drops when he says you're beautiful
how you can climb out of bed without pants and laugh
how he'll touch you in places you thought were sacred
how his touch will be worshipping the places you know are sacred
how *** doesn't change who you are
but at the same time:
it does.
your body will always have his touch;
but that's okay.
because you want it to stay
maybe he was a moment
or maybe he is forever
but when you were together
you loved him and that's what mattered
safe & comfortable
passionate & loud

it took me a long while to be able to write this
because it was too messy to call it making love
but maybe that's the whole point
because love is messy
and making it, even more so
but its a mess you don't have to clean
(except the bedsheets)
maybe, just maybe
it was messy enough
to call it making love.