The center

This is a draft of a poem that I started writing while running this weekend.

Reaching for your center,
she was always trying
to pull from you

some sort of bone, some
piece of cartilage

something hard and real
of you to call
her own. Life taught

her that she could
push past eager resistance

to get to the warmest
part of your body. She could
slide up into you

but she could never
take anything

as a reminder
of the places
she has been.

When you told her
it was over, you made
sure to use
the nastiest words.

Anyone you had fucked
like that was sure
never to be offended.

You wake at night
and feel something inside
you still, and wonder –

She never managed to take
anything from you, but might
she have left something

there, at your center? Are you
a clam, enveloping whats left
of her in whats best of you

so that it will not hurt so much?

1 Comment

Filed under lust and love, writing

One response to “The center

  1. LK

    so. fucking. hot

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