Unicorns aren't real you dumb cunt

I'm good at the beginning.  
The sex is always good
in the beginning.  
 
But I'm tired of beginnings,  
so when you bit the flower tattoo  
on my hip so hard  
I came right then and there,  
I realized I wanted to see  
what the middle was like.  
 
With you.  
 
And the middle was pretty  
good too.  
Not so many mornings walking  
like I rode a bike too hard.  
Not so many nights  
covered in the smell of  
your body, sliding my  
salty skin against yours.  
Not so much time  spent  
pretending like I don't fart,  
or my twat looks that pretty with no effort,  
or that my underwear never  
has stains,  
or that I actually like  
underwire bras.  
 
Hate them.  
 
But the middle got quiet  
and I am loud.  
So we went to that  
bar at the end of  
the pier in the next town  
over.  
Got too drunk to drive home,  
but drove anyway,  
talking about the wild sex we  
used to have.  
Talking about the drunk  
nights that used to  
make us hate morning.  
 
And talking abut it all  
made it all the beginning again.  
 
We made it    
halfway home before  
my face was in your lap  
and your hands were in my hair.  
 
And when I replaced my mouth  
with my un-magically-groomed  
twat, you gripped my  
t-shirt-bra tits and  
asked me to tell you a story...  
 
A story...  
 
A fantasy...  
 
And I did.  
 
I said I wanted to see you  
buried in the waitress  
at the end of the counter as  
she made me come.  
 
See you fuck her from  
behind,  
while she licked my  
cunt.  
 
I wanted to look over  
her body, and lock eyes  
with you,  
and revel in the power  
of graduating  
our sex toys from latex to  
human.  
 
So we did.  
 
We went back for her.  
 
It was another beginning,  
and motherfucker,  
it was a beginning like no other.  
 
I still have to press my thighs together,  
still have breathe out slow,  
recalling that beginning.  
 
I am good at beginnings.  
Very good.  
(and it was so good)  
 
But in this middle,  
I haven't found a thing  
but stale cigarette breath  
and a coffee mug of cheap cabernet.  
 
Because when I'm fucking her,  
you're fucking me.  
 
and when I'm fucking you,  
she's fucking me  
 
but when you're fucking  
her...  
 
I'm smoking on the front porch  
pretending like I'm  
not drunk at 10 a.m.  
while  
 
getting  
 
fucked  
 
by you both