You hastily slid my pink thong past my ankles
half an hour ago,
but only now,
when I can feel a stickiness
drip down the insides of my thighs,
am I finally naked.
It dawns on me that I want to tell you something–
something important–
I want to tell you
"I love you,"
before I can pause to wonder if I mean it–
but leftover ***
dribbles out of me
faster than any words can, and suddenly
I am empty again
and have nothing
to say.