You’ve got your iPhone in your hand. I am pixilated on the edge of my bed. Shaved down to my silicone base, dead-eyed in the lens, I am hardwired and ready to please. You type sweet nothings out like threats, “I’m gonna pound you, I’m gonna destroy you, I’m gonna tear you apart.” Reload the screen again and again, await my capitulation. I beckon you to approach, hard candy nails tapping little circles on the glass, soft plastic, rounded edges swaying on a loop. Come, inflict upon me. Hold it in your hand and send me one more picture, my love, I will tell you how I need it again. Pull it closer and taste me faintly through the port, let the pink light of my body pool over your face. Oh, you’ve never had a girl like me before? I could melt upon your tongue if you would just get in the car. I could spread out wide, an angel for you to fall inside, if only you’d insert the key. Patiently I wait, but you will never come. You’d rather watch me by yourself. Just tell me one more time, how big and strong and hard, and complete yourself. Tell me how you’d hurt me and then watch the screen go black.
You’ve got your arms up on the door frame. Amber off my neck curls around the stale reek of your weed, eyes dancing between lips and button flies. If we were not both here right now we’d never meet. But we are just around the corner, right outside speaker’s pulse, as you pull your breath hot off my neck. In the sober daylight I’d pass you right by. Cloaked in red-tinged darkness, though, I cannot help but want us to connect. You are nothing next to me and I am wasted upon you, and In my head I am naked on top. I moan so loud the windowpanes shimmer. Your dirty nails bite imprints into the soft flesh of my hips. You smell awful, you look pitiful, yet my neck cranes back in ecstasy. We share a knowing smirk as I gnaw bitter at the thought. I know you smell it on my skin. I know, you know, this will never happen. The grass is always greener, the sex is better in my head, and you will be the unsaved number that doesn’t answer when I text. Tease me, tease me, then disappoint. Look at my lips when I’m talking to you, sit too close when we’re sweaty and drunk, graze me, brush me and then waste my time, waste my time, please, my love, waste my goddamn time.
You’ve got your fingers on my waist. Somehow you emerged behind me, an apparition in the strobe lights, and I turn to face you between flashes. You stand out amongst this crowd, more beautiful than the rest. My skin prickles, our hips fall in time, I turn again between your arms – an invitation accepted. Words are snuffed out here, heartbeats drown in the thrumming, but I can feel the desire in your touch. This dress is so thin, you like what you feel, tugging at the seams on my thighs. Shall I undress for you right here? In this moment, swallowed up by such a heavy beat, I might let you strip me naked. I turn once more and run my hands up over your shoulders. Hold me tighter. The lights are so blinding that we lose all sense, unmoored in an ocean of swaying bodies. It grows louder still, melts altogether, and we realize at once that nobody is watching. Don’t let go. This sweat on my neck, it could be yours or mine. Our legs interlock as you tug at my waist. You are holding me afloat now, our foreheads pressed together. Take me right now. And maybe you do, my love, but the tide is unforgiving, and my memory is lost. When my eyes open I am alone at sea. Ships in the night; I cast a prayers upon the searchlights that I might find you again.
You’ve got your back up to my ceiling. Rainfall outside the window has followed you here, and it shifts the lights within the room as it swipes against the glass. Finally, I trace circles upon your back. I thought it might be over now, but God, look at how tired you are. A dog to your desires you bite half-heartedly at my neck, but your head is oh so heavy. Surrender, my love, just lay back down. Perhaps I wanted something different; perhaps I howled from my window too. But there is no moon watching us tonight, just clouds fallen over the sill, and you are warm beneath my duvet. I like the way your legs tangle up in mine. I like the way your cheek sticks to my breast. So desperately you claw to stand, to lock eyes with mine and drain the color from them, but I can’t help making you laugh. The air that builds between us doesn’t feel all that carnal. Ragged, labored, but softened at the edges. Skin exposed where coarse fur was expected. “I guess it’s been a while,” whispered through the sheets, so you’re gentler than you meant to be, and I’m as gentle as you needed. You are sobered when it’s over and you leave as if embarrassed, hide cloak slipped back on over your face. You will text me when you can. I will answer when you do.
You’ve got a knot tied on my heart. I don’t mean to be weird or anything, I apologize if I’m too forward. It’s just been such a long time since I’ve felt it beat this loudly, and I am deafened in my bathroom, in my kitchen, in my bed. I can taste you in the water. Maybe you don’t feel the same, I don’t know, you don’t have to tell me. Please, actually, say nothing for right now. I forget my youth at times. I have this silly superstition that it rains when it feels right, and it’s just pouring over my apartment, and I keep writing your name in the fog on the window. It doesn’t have to be anything, I promise. In six months I’ll be somewhere else and you can just forget me, but I might call you when I land. It’s the middle of the summer but the thermostat’s at sixty, so if I tell you that I’m cold is that a good enough excuse? You don’t have to tell me anymore. I’ll put a record on, I’ll be naked when you get here. I can hold the bedframe or you can lay down in my lap, I really don’t care which, but I like the way my pillows smell where you slept. Forgive my confusion, I am more delicate than I thought. Please, my love, come over.
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Oh no you didn’t. No one has ever shed a light on the experience of guttural craving for intimacy found in late night grindr chats, in such a beautiful & articulate way. An honour to read.
wow. this is so beautiful kay