Sojourning in plaid sheets

the pads of his
long fingers
dimple the flesh
at my hip
and I half blush
because I used his
cock to induce
amnesia
and I’m bruised in
places I can’t see

stay…

he rolls me over,
his cock turgid against
my flat belly;
the cross tattoo
on his right forearm
flexes as he twines his
fingers in mine
and presses me into
the weird
dark blue
plaid pattern
of his sheets

stay…

and I can feel the
feelings he’s catching
in the way he fucks
me back to his side
of the bed for
fifth fucking time,
when really I'm just here
to come.
And then go.

stay…


his thrusts slow
and we groan to the end
in bliss
and pain
rubbed raw
from staining
each other's need
with sex

fuck.... yes

but the way he says
stay...
as my legs swing
over the side of the bed
makes me cringe past
the dickburn in my cunt

because it’s just a fuck
(or five)

It's just a fuck.
But he asks again
as our fluids leak
from my body;
I touch his cheek
gently
and say
the first
true thing
all night

I can’t
(give you what
you want)

I can’t … stay

I can’t  

I pull on my jeans
and leave with my
shoes in one hand,
keys in the other

and his fingertips
close on air