THE DIVORCEE AND GIN I love the frosted pints you come in, and the tall bottles with their uniformed men; the bars where you’re poured chilled into shallow glasses, the taste of drowned olives, and the scrawled benches where I see you passed impatiently from one mouth to another, the bag twisted tight around your neck, the hand that holds you shaking a little from its need which is the true source of desire, God, I love what you do to me at night when we’re alone, how you wait for me to take you into me until I’m so confused with you I can’t stand up anymore. I know you want me helpless, each cell whimpering, and I give you that, letting you have me just the way you like it. And when you’re finished you turn your face to the wall while I curl around you again, and enter another morning with aspirin and the useless ache that comes from loving, too well, those who, under the guise of pleasure, destroy everything they touch. ~Kim Addonizio (tinyurl/ketsmnx & tinyurl/n7jpmpf)
Posted on: Thu, 22 Aug 2013 07:32:24 +0000
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