but it was too messy to call it making love

my hair got in his mouth
his hips were too low
my legs got in the way
the angles just weren't right
it took us a few tries
to just "get it in"

there weren't roses or candles
i was in a white bra and *******
there was no black lingerie
i had shaved my legs in the morning
but i still had stubble in the places i missed
he wasn't tall dark and handsome
i wasn't white skinny and ****

we didn't know what we were doing
and if we could see ourselves
i'm sure we'd have died of embarrassment
seeing the mess of arms and legs
and body parts in awkward positions

but maybe that was the whole point
we laughed
and we laughed
he had a lopsided smile
and he smelt like home
his touch was comfortable
and his mouth lit a fire inside me
those eyes were full of greed
for not my body, but for me
it wasn't "him" and "me"
we were a we
and together we went through the journey
of discovery
finding out how our bodies work
when they are with another
finding out which curve fits where
learning where to put my hands
when he climbed up on my hips
learning how his body responded
when mine arched in pain and pleasure

his exhausted body
holding on to mine for dear life
no one mentions the sweat in your eyes
or that urgent need to ***
no one tells you that maybe you won't bleed
and maybe your favorite song won't be in the background
and maybe you don't walk out a woman, no longer a girl
no one tells you that *** isn't this magical thing that stops your whole world

but they leave out the good bits too
there's so much they don't tell you
like how, when it's over, he whispers *i love you
how his gaze drops when he says you're beautiful
how you can climb out of bed without pants and laugh
how he'll touch you in places you thought were sacred
how his touch will be worshipping the places you know are sacred
how *** doesn't change who you are
but at the same time:
it does.
your body will always have his touch;
but that's okay.
because you want it to stay
maybe he was a moment
or maybe he is forever
but when you were together
you loved him and that's what mattered
safe & comfortable
passionate & loud

it took me a long while to be able to write this
because it was too messy to call it making love
but maybe that's the whole point
because love is messy
and making it, even more so
but its a mess you don't have to clean
(except the bedsheets)
maybe, just maybe
it was messy enough
to call it making love.

I suppose if the arts had any real power
Michaelangelo's David could have healed my brother
Rimbaud could have saved Hiroshima
Monet could have painted the world in shades of peace
Desiderata could have protected me
But this is the real world
And where poetry once grew comes the art of fabrication
Dali's obras are no longer enough to make me forget
Moonlight Sonata never warned me of this hurt
The waltz never healed a broken family

I suppose if the arts had any real power
Beethoven wouldn't have gone deaf
Van Gogh would have been happy
Hemingway would have loved better
And Ginsberg wouldn't have been afraid to love

Yet here they all are
When the only light I see is on hundred year old canvas
When the only solace I have is a dead man's words
When the only thing that keeps my heart thundering
Is the promise of a Boticelli ending in Picasso figures
All colors, beauty, light and metaphors
The promise of a Renaissance gleaming in the ashes of prose

This is the real world
I suppose if the arts had any real power
It would heal more than just my heart
It would build me a new Garden of Eden
And I'd pave a way to nirvana
So the world could join hands
And start anew

But it's saved me for now
That is enough.

i always knew i tempted your desires
your hungry eyes on my fair thighs
i saw the way you looked at me
when i bent over to pick up a flower from the ground
to tuck behind my ear; my curls laughing in the wind
i was warm and gentle with a fire in my eyes and a taste for danger
you couldn't place me: whether i was a ****** or a *****
the curve of my back told you stories about hands sliding in my pants
but the freckle on my cheeks told you i'd never touched a man in my life
you weren't sure what excited you more
thinking i was a **** for free,
a school girl without a history,
or knowing that you'd never know which one i was.
i knew that the length of my neck
gave you ideas about your teeth staining the skin
that my pink parted mouth
was built for you to crawl inside it
baby girl or ***** *****
you never could decide which
only that i played out your ******-***** fantasies
untouchable, waiting for you.
innocent outside, ***** to the core.

i always knew i tempted your desires
by my mere existence and the shape of a woman
i saw the way you looked at me
but i never thought you'd pin me to the wall
while i screamed for freedom into your hand
my muffled cries tempted your desires and you couldn't help but enjoy it
when the blood ran down my thighs
your dilemma was solved
and you realized that no one had touched me
the way you had
that tempted your desires
so you did it
again
and
again
and
again
until
i no longer
bled
or
cried
the fire
in
my
eyes
died
and
you
were
no
longer
tempted
by
my
******
in-betweens
or
the
dimples
in
my cheeks.

you
walked
away
free.

I've always wondered what my life
Would have been like.

I've always wondered how
Things would be different.

I've put a lot of stock in love stories.
In the way things are supposed to go.

I think that's kinda silly now.
I think it's a bit childish.
I think it's dreaming for the sake of the dream.
And I shouldn't live like that.

If I,
Could have lived in the moment
Given you everything I knew how to give
Don't everything I knew how to do
Tried to be the best for you
If I,
had done all those things

It wouldn't have mattered--you didn't love me.

If I had known that,
Things would have been better