It is paradoxical, I
suppose, that I like his
hands closed around my
throat, even as he waits
for my breath inside of his,
that I want to be crushed
by his hips, even while treading
carefully down his spine .
Hopefully, you’ll hold that
against me the next time
you have me pressed up
against the wall,
my ponytail wrapped around
your hand like a friendship
bracelet.
No comments:
Post a Comment