All Sexed Out

You asked me to
stop talking about sex
stop whispering about love
to start talking about us.

But can't I
still talk
about you?

And how you smile
grandly when I walk in
your space even when I
look scrubby and sleepy.
Or how when we walk
and your arm brushes mine
I feel the sun exchange
from your skin to my heart.
But don't forget that day
by the fence when you looked
around first before tugging me
into your body and I lifted you
laughing into the sky where
your hair is always at play.
And the night the boundary
blurred gray and we met
for the first time beyond the box
in an empty park where dusk engulfed
your fears of loss and gave you to me
for but only one hour as we held
out for as long as we dared before
your world rang you away from me
again and reminded me of finality.
So that night my inbox bumped
up one digit and you were back
in our space where we are free
of ties and lives to just be
alone inside each others' mind
and hug with vowels
and kiss with consonants
and sex with assonance
and cry with alliteration
and be reborn by language
to find love is not tangible only
held in grasps and lips
but made of more than bodies
can speak even in harmony.

I know you are tired
of sex every night
of the week but can I
at least whisper to you
in our bed of English
about how much you mean
inside me and that without
you I think I will cry
for days maybe
a full week before
I can touch the keys
again without you
in my fingertips.

Can't I still type about love?
Can't you give me that joy?
Can't I pound the passion keys?
Can't we keep our space breathing?

I mean
can't we
be still
the same
without sex?
Can't we
be still
in love
for the
time we
have?

Can't we?


*This was the first piece of mine that was accepted beyond the walls that are Daytona Beach. For that reason, I will forever be proud of it.

It can also be seen here on Daily Love.

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