She’s stealing the friction the heat I’d spark if it was my skin pressed against yours. She’s stealing my thoughts my filthy whispers the ones I’d breathe in your ear. She’s stealing the sweat that would slicken my chest if it was my body sliding along yours.
She’s stealing but she’s not. It’s given. Relinquished. I bet you beg her to take you in her mouth. I bet you beg her to enter you again and again.
And that’s what shatters my ignorant shield and loathingly grips my untouched body with the physical reality: