Why haven't we just fucked?

I watched a little  
bumblebee in my yard the other  
day, wiggling his  
cheery little self  
around the stamen  
hoping to get a little sperm  
on his legs.  
 
I'm here wiggling my ass  
wondering if I'm going to  
get a little sperm on my legs
and wondering how many  
eye-roll moments could be avoided  
with a single
honest moment.  
 
So here it is:  
 
Can't we just fuck  
in words  
out loud
in the open?  
 
Instead of seedy conversations
that weigh too much  
on our blackened souls  
can't we just
stick it in?  
 
I'd like to avoid  
having to pretend  
that it's all new  
for the first time  
again,
and again,
and just...  
 
just go at you  
poetically
like an animal  
 
in words  
out loud  
in the open  
 
I'm tired of  
pretending.  
 
I'm tired of sending  
good feedback on  
bad dick pics.  
 
I always have to fake it  
like that, and  
I don't think  
I should  
fake it  
with  
 
you.  
 
I don't think I want  
the bomb to explode  
in my face like that.  
 
Instead, I'd like to tie a bag over your  
head, and tell you who you  
were last night  
when I fucked you using borrowed  
meat, and see if it made  
your balls grow heavy.  
See if it made the skin of  
your cock shine.  
See if I had the actual
goddamn skill  
to make you real in your  
own mind.  
 
And in turn, I'd like to feel that rage-lust-obsession  
when you tell me  
what my cunt tastes like  
with someone else's face.
I'd like to see if you  
can paint words  
with such cunning  
that it makes my back  
arch  
makes me scream
that you're the  
 
best  
 
I'm ever going to write  
 
in words  
out loud  
in the open.  
 
Let's just do what we came here do:
break the mold  
fuck the conventions  
write until we're raw.  
 
Will you  
fuck
me?  
 
Me.  
 
In words.  
Out loud.  
Right now.