You told me once
to never stop asking
my hundreds of questions
that leave you gasping.

When you looked at me,
eyes tracing your hands--
with a quick grasp
at the drawer of your nightstand.

You asked me a question--
just like my hundreds.
So real and so hot
mouth open, body spread;

"So you’re telling me, somehow
i have to take the most beautiful girl
in my life,
and bruise her thighs?"