Sort of about sex

Sex sells. But since I’m not selling anything, I rarely write about it. Not that I have no interest, but… I can’t think of a way to end that sentence. Still, I wrote this little thing about it.


I read this little book
about sex
and watched you
contort as if to please me
scream like you were
giving birth
or dying
dredge out vile words from your vocabulary
a litany of verbs
you bent over the bed
and I realized
that it was all a newton’s cradle
the movement
simply back and forth
going nowhere


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