Clean

I realize
My head is a maze
Of convoluted conclusions
Errant delusions
Because I felt it was right,
At first,
To fuck an almost-stranger
Over a desk
Greasy research papers
Sticking to my hands
He pounds away
Behind me, careful
Calculated thrusts;
Maximum pleasure
For minimum movement.  
Holding, with both hands,
My skirt above my waist,
I don’t feel him, really,
He’s just a body,
Just a smell, just another dick.    
There isn’t a way to wipe away
The tears,
These stupid tears…
Thinking of my truer love
While each thrust over the desk
From this stranger is
An agony.  
I am starved
Knowing that the only satisfaction
I’ll ever get from my actual lover
Is when I can stroke his coarse skin,
Caress the etched sorrows of his face
Pretending that he is giving me a piece
Of himself…
Pretending he loves me.  
He betrays, lies,
Cheats, steals
Scorns
My sanity
Expended words
Stuck mercilessly in my throat
Never reaching him
Caught in between
My love for love
And my love for myself.    
I need time.
I need purification.  
I need an immersion
A cumless, sexless baptism
To purge my abandoned heart.