You sent a morning text. Just “Hi.”
And what should I reply?
With truth – that I am lying in my bed,
Hard, thinking of you, the thought
Of your tongue on the head
Of my cock, the skin taut
Under the stroke, the stroke,
The stroke of your wet caress?
Or do I dissemble, pretend,
And then simply send
A cute come back – the text of a friend,
A “Hi, how are you?” sort of thing.
A message that shows you can depend
On my friendship. Which will lead to a ping-
Pong exchange, batted back and forth,
A strange battle of holding back.
I decide to do it – to dare.
I send my longing through the air.
Tapping the letters of my desire for you,
The words tripping over each other
To speak my truth, my wish to
Gather you to me. Words tumbling after each other
To strike you with their force,
To dare, to open, to be in truth.