If you let me explore
you with my rougish tongue,
through your cavities
and my carnalities,
to the stark nakedness
of your flesh and your soul,
and you’d let me have
a piece of your beautiful
beautiful mind,
I would enmesh it with
my own broken
and ****** soul.
We would be one,
heartbeats in sync,
and fingerprints, and the
panorama of memories would
bind themselves in order
to be a creature, as one,
whose enigma permeates
through the walls of this
inexplicable phenomenon. You
will satisfy the longingness
yearned by each atom that
constitutes my being, and I,
a speck of invisible stardust
in the universe, would
radiate the faintest glimmer
of light enough to suffice
the life you need.

I
The phone was screaming in my pocket
its voice was muffled by the pile of clothes
on top of it

The hotel water was almost too hot
it blushed my scalp
and cascaded down my face
in a way that should have felt like baptism
but didn't

After what felt like an eternity
the call went to the black hole
that is my neglected voicemail
now at over a hundred missed calls

I didn’t want to talk
not to Dad, not to Mom,
not to my fiancé,
and definitely not to some reporter
trying to make our ****** up family
the topic of the nine o’clock news

II
The pipes in the wall
clunked around for a second
as I turned the ****, cutting the water off
I stepped out of the shower
somehow feeling less clean than when I entered

For a moment I stood there,
towel over my head
in complete darkness

I closed my eyes and saw him
standing across from me
his eyes, locked with mine
dad’s gun in his shaking hands -
pointed directly at my head
unblinking, full of hatred, anger
and fear

They’ll call him a monster
and knowing what he’s done,
I won’t be able to say they’re wrong

III
Sympathizers will say that the divorce
messed him up somehow
or that he inherited our mother’s mental illness
or that he played too many first person shooters –
which is just ******* stupid

Lying on the hotel bed,
I nakedly examined the ceiling
mapping out the distance between water stains
like a cartographer

The last time he called me
he was in tears,
because some ****** from his school
beat him to a pulp
and shoved his face in dog ****

I can’t help but dwell
on something I said to him that night:

“People like that don’t change
they become ******* adults
and keep kicking people around
because they can
Because they’re rich and we’re poor
and they don’t want to see people like us
we remind them that the world isn't perfect
and doesn't revolve around them”

I don’t want to believe
that I planted the seed,
that the one time he listened to me –

IV
Six people died
most of them, kids no older than seventeen
one teacher, and a janitor - tagged by a stray bullet
two kids have been in critical condition
for the last three days

He must have been terrified
in those last moments
before the cops riddled him with holes

He must have regretted it
or at least regretted
not having an escape plan

He never did think things through
unlike me,
connecting the countries on the ceiling
drawing imaginary lines
of cause and effect
and trying to figure out what it means
to be a big brother
in the absence of a little one

He looks like the kind of guy
I want to take me
steal me into the night
and let nobody save me

It feels like the kind of night
with my hands tied above my head
dazed with stars in my eyes
lips on mine like flesh full of lead

He's probably the kind of guy
to bump straight into me on the train
takes a week to agree to staying the night
not very selfish and not that vain

It's probably the kind of night
When its going great in my head
but we say our goodbyes
and go straight home to bed.

Hello dear friend
how do you do
heard from a little birdie
you found a new boo

now I know it might be pretentious
what I dare to assume
but darling we both know
what I'm about to say is true

I don't doubt one day
this pretty young thing
will be giving you those ***** bedroom eyes
as she slowly unzips your fly
she takes you in whole
performs that sickly divine act

inevitably your mind will wander back
to a time before
where this was our norm

a dissatisfaction will arise
one you won't ignore when you realize
this new girl can't **** like a *****
her lips aren't mine and that's such a shame
because baby we both know
I had no trouble making it rain

grinding myself hard onto your unzipped pants
i imagine clipping into your body and
shattering your programming
our lips meander into each other breaking
california law,
and simultaneously
finding anatomical peace
your **** thrusts through slacks an angry fist
and I wonder how eager my mouth looks on you
******* the decade between us
bridging the age gap with a rope of *****,
lip to *****: in awe that I am
capable of making you ***
silly and heavy with excited hands
i fumble with my pants,
tucking my knees into my chest to slide them off my feet
my stomach disobeys me, spilling out
holding onto something desirable of mine so tight
you crush my fleeting abstinence

Love is beautiful
Patience and kind
Movie star kisses
Making passionate love
Paints a pretty picture
But lets get down to the nitty gritty
*** is ******* good
Rough and passionate
But the next day can be filled with regret
The next ******* day is plan b
And why don't people *** after *** on the television?
Thats a urinary tract infection waiting to happen
Or yeast infection
What the  televison doesn't t tell you
you can get hpv with a ****** on
Hpv leads to cancer
(but not all strands- you still got hope)
maybe a chance you already have hpv
Because almost every sexually active person will have it at one point in their life
What the television doesnt tell you
after **** some girls will have to take a huge ****
And most girls don't like ****
It hurts every ******* time
What the television doesn't tell you
how to use proper protection
That you can be rubbed raw
Get a hernia during ***
Sometimes its pretty ******* bad ***
Its not pretty
It can be awkward
It can be silly
and you do not need to act ****
What the telly doesn't tell you
Is how it doesn't matter about the age you loose it but when you have the emotional intelligence to go through with it
Even then you do not know that you have opened Pandora's box
You do not know what you think you know
The specialist are still figuring out ****** hygiene
So the next time you watch the television and you see the **** stars or teen lovers
It is not so easy
*** is complicated
But can be good and worth it with the right person
No matter what age or relation

Let me love you. Let me make out with you, then trail my lips from your neck all the way down to just above the waistband of your underwear. Just imagine the feeling of my lips hovering just above that sweet spot where your hot desire is growing. My warm breath across your skin, my lips and tongue and gentle touch in the perfect spot, igniting a flame in the deepest depths of you, striking a match in your heart. Imagine my hands under your thighs, just slightly holding your legs up while I kiss and lick and ****. Imagine how the warmth and tingling sensation will travel up your spine and into your head and back down your chest while you breathe, heavy and sporadic. Imagine how much harder you'll get when you see me come up to breathe, smirking smugly, my **** in the air, covered in lacy *******, my hair a mess from you sliding your hands in and out of it, my lips wet, my ******* aching hard and straining my bra. Think about running your hands all along those full curves, like two berries, ripe and ready to be picked. Hold them gently, as if one too-tight squeeze could break them. Kiss my lips as if one too-hard kiss could shatter them to pieces like a wineglass on a wooden floor. Touch me like I'm made of porcelain and listen to me moan "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Do you miss me now?