climb over mouths over each other

What is the color of your battle?

I am going to watch you can I watch you I am going to watch.
I am going to watch the way you cross one leg over the other as though the left knee is the right knee’s lover.

I am going to study you can I study you I am going to study.
I am going to study the shade of your lips as they become stop signs
or is your mouth a letter, safety clipped together in need of a proper tear and unfold?

What do you like to be called

Can you climb inside my morning and drip sips of coffee
color of your forearms
on my shoulders

Can you press your Spanish
your religion
your Massachusetts
your drawings
your ocean
your grease
your patchouli
your asthma
your confessional
your passport
your collarbone
into the weep of my thighs

You call me up and thank me for the orgasm you received after you clicked
I am over the age of 18
and entered into lit screen of nudity and sex talk.

You draw out images of what your body did what your body does what your body wants
after moans move limbs to grow longer and shake.

will you rough me
pull on me
will you grab
will you lick
will you kiss this / kiss this
remove what needs to come out / come out / come out

you say.

There are a couple of things I can claim about sex:
1. it does not matter how many times one has had it or how many partners accumulated
with each new body it’s like starting over as a virgin
2. there is no such thing as a professional even when you are a professional
3. kisses can feel like eleven thousand erections.
there is no need to rush toward unzipped pants and fisting
4. beds may used for sleeping, while walls and alleyways and dance floors and tents in the middle of forests and park benches and underneath trees and rooftops and laps
may be used for sex
5. Sex is like a radio. Keep switching stations, speeds, genres and experiment with volume control because there is a reason all those options exist

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