these visions come to me awake
despite a gnawing need for sleep
in tangled sheets, I lay,
writhing for a different dream.
goose-fleshed skin under her grip
a trembling chin, and stone-cold eyes
I pray to a God I cannot see
and hope it wasn’t the same as she.
the hands run along me, poking
prodding, loving, lusting and in
short moments they take their
fill, hungry mouths awaiting.
and this ugly feeling in my gut
takes hold my throat and
I fall down into this hole of mine,
the dark creates the blind and
I am blind to all I cannot see.
her outstretched hands grasp
at me for more and more and
I cannot give,
for she has taken all there is to take.