it’s been a while, she said
since i made love — like a connection
with another human being
he doesn’t understand,
what making love means
and claims the only time
was once in his dreams
that’s interesting she says, was it wet?
but he just laughs
because he doesn’t understand what she said
instead he claims,
that, after all, it’s not about love —
but Sex
I try to convince myself
that it doesn’t matter,
but it does –
it always does.
The feelings
to be wanted,
to want someone
are not easily discouraged
Whenever it starts,
I always tell myself,
“Don’t get your hopes up”,
“It is only temporary”,
and then,
it hits me —
I get excited
I enjoy
the company,
and then, I have hope
that maybe,
this is it
this might be
something real,
but it never is.
There won’t be someone great.
I have had a man trace my body
as if it was a painting,
actions which speak volumes
to what one was thinking
any sensation
as graceful,
as delicate,
like fingertips drifting across water
without penetrating its surface
would instill enough ease
to drift into a sleep
where dreams remind you
of the warm sheets beside
and the air that fills
a blissful night
