headspace

she awoke in throws of deep despair
searching cerebral cortex for traces of his adoration
probing tympanic membrane for whisperings of passion untold...
longing for comfort of fine sinewy frame..
surely someone loved her?
Am I not real? she cried..
or have I become the definition of my desire...
does strength belie a weakness of want
or is existence simply context,
subtext no text for love illiterate?

Ha!

I fucked him cuz he
needed it
and wanted to go
higher.

I did it with my
pity clit
the one without
desire.

The one with no
deliciousness
her flesh devoid
of fire.

The sex that
never ever was
a loveless fuck
of ire.