'I KNEW LITTLE, AND WHAT I KNEW
I DID NOT BELIEVE---------THEY HAD LIED TO ME
SO MANY TIMES, SO I JUST TOOK IT AS IT
CAME, HIS NAKED BODY ON THE SHEET,
THE TINY HAIRS CURLING ON HIS LEGS LIKE
FINE GOLD SHELLS, HIS SEX
HARDER AND HARDER UNDER MY PALM
AND YET NOT HARD AS A ROCK HIS FACE COCKED
BACK AS IF IN TERROR, THE SWEAT
JUMPING OUT OF HIS PORES LIKE SUDDEN
TRAILS FROM THE TINY SNAILS WHEN HIS KNEES
LOCKED WITH LITTLE CLICKS AND UNDER MY
HAND HE GATHERED AND SHOOK AND THE ACTUAL
FLOOD LIKE MILK CAME OUT OF HIS BODY, I
SAW IT GLOW ON HIS BELLY, ALL THEY HAD
SAID AND MORE, I RUBBED IT INTO MY
HANDS LIKE LOTION, I SIGNED ON FOR THE DURATION.
-SHARON OLDS
LAUREN SLATER-LYING
'WE FUCKED THE WHOLE TIME.I BROUGHT HIM MY NEW STORIES, ALL TEN OF THEM. HE READ ONE, WE FUCKED, HE READ ANOTHER, WE FUCKED AGAIN, UNTIL WE'D FUCKED TEN TIMES OVER THE COURSE OF THE WEEKEND. IT WAS HARD, THEREFORE NOT TO MAKE THE PAVLOVIAN ASSOCIATION BETWEEN WORDS AND LOVE. WITH BOTH EYES OPEN, I SAW LANGUAGE AS A BRIDGE ACROSS THE CHASM; WE COULD CROSS. WE DID.'
////////////////
...ASKING ME FOR WORDS...LANGUAGE LEADING INTO LIFE...VELOCITY MINE...
/////////////////////
...SPLITTING MY TORSO, RIPPING ME INTO TWO WET SHREDS, BUT WHILE I FELT SPLIT, I FELT FULL, HELD, BOUND BY A TOUCH IRREVOCABLE. HE PUSHED DEEPER IN. A SHARPNESS, A DARK RED PAIN RUNNING UP MY FLANK. 'STOP' I CRIED...
HE BEGAN MOVING AGAIN, AND HIS HAND AGAIN, MYTHICAL WE WERE, A SINGLE ROAR OF SOUND, ALIVE, WHILE OUTSIDE CARS RIPPED UP THE ROADWAY...
SOMETHING CHANGED AFTER THAT. I MISSED HIM MORE. HAVING KNOWN THE COMPLETENESS OF CONNECTION...
I WANTED NOTHING LESS...
I HAD THE NEED...
...ABSENCES WERE HARDER TO BEAR...
GREAT CREATIVE NATURES AND GREAT SEXUALITY...
