Pleasantries

There's this place I go
Quietly now
So people will forget it
And it'll run pure.

There's this place my hands wander
Unhastily now
So that I can stay longer
And discover more.

That doesn't mean I forget
The way your fingers
Twirled that twirl around my slit
And snaked their way in
Between my lips.

When I caress my clit, I'm gentle
Because it's only when I'm gentle
That I recall how rough you could be
When I writhed.
But, your slithering fingers
Felt just as stimulating
Encircling my neck.
And squeezing.

Grotesque sex.
Convulsing, quaking,
Tonguing our discolored bruises
And pressing into open wounds,
Caterwauling immoral mentionings
That evoked
Lewd, unchaste doings on my skin.
In my skin.
Under my skin.

I remember when I'm gentle
With myself
By myself
Just how rushed every fuck was
Even when we went all night.
Now I go alone,
Uninterrupted.

There's this place I go
Quietly now
So people will forget it
And it'll run pure.