"He told me that he loved me
while he was fucking me with his hand
around my neck and I said it back..."
He told me that he loved me
while he was fucking me with his hand
around my neck and I said it back to him
with my mouth pressed inside of his.
So many people have different stories
about how the one they miss the most
first said that they loved them,
but ours isn’t as romantic
as most of the ones I hear about
at work or in class or even
listening to on a conversation
that I was never invited to
participate in.
The first time we kissed
we were in his bed and before
he could ask me what I wanted
for dinner I asked if he wanted
to fuck me.
I always tell my parents a different story.
I tell relatives and cousins
that we had our first kiss during a party
when I thought the whole world
was against me but his lips told me otherwise;
that he had always been on my side.
It’s sounds more romantic,
more sentimental, like a story that sounds
as if we were made for one another.
But his body is so much more
than an escape from this world
for a few moments of infinite pleasure,
and I swear to you that his comforting eyes
and welcoming touch were not the only thing
that drew me to him.
But for now I’m going to
keep this story raw
instead fluffing it up
with romance and warmth
and reminisce about the time
when his hands were around my neck
and he sighed forever
into the the opening of my thighs.
- “We fucked as a way of saying forever,” - Colleen Brown
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