I Love The Way You Say ‘Fuck’
I’m in the palm of your hand—
both figuratively and literally
You say:
“I’m so into you”
I say:
“both figuratively and literally”
You laugh from between my legs
twist your wrist
quote Lacan
into the skin of my thigh.
your voice is vibrating
as it gets muffled into me
I can’t comprehend much
except my grip on the pillow
except my mouth forming frantic, filthy
endearments muffled into
my own palm.
I hold the words there
stretch them outward to you
stroke your cheek with them
when you look up at me.
Our Two-ness
Thinking about you
eating me out makes me
cry now.
You said it was the
closest you’ve ever gotten
to meditating.
You said this while
I was on my back on the floor
in my parent’s basement.
I’m at work now. I thought about
that a lot though, you know,
at work.
“Fuck, Baby,” you’d say—
in your eyes I’d see my face
reflected back.
Even when you weren’t talking
your mouth
always moved dialectically.
Now, instead of heat and blood—
warm syrup pouring
into my stomach and lower—
my heart beats a funeral dirge.
I wear black panties in mourning.
~~~
Alyssa Ciamp is a scientist, a writer and an aries continually growing into herself. She tweets regularly about her work and also about the woes of being horny @ClinicallyChill. Find more of her work on her website: Alyssaciamp.com