Wet - Poem by Jessica Hughes
We were in the sack, causing the sheets to sweat.
They moved about as an orgasmic spasm.
But what affected me the most were the
dramatic: moans, groans, pants.
He would grab my waist so tight.
Until, I blurted out poisonous pleasure.
These moments of lust pursued within the nights hour.
And then I said it was time for him to go.
I watched him hop inside his sweat suit.
The darkness revealed his face as if he was ashamed.
I laid on those stained sheets at a loss for words.
And then some...
Those sheets told a miserable story.
Our juices dried upon the headboard.
But, it was only bodily fluids and nothing more.
So why do we keep doing this to ourselves?
Truly, I could never be yours.
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