As The Night

I am not afraid of dying.

It is the living I fear for, as the
nights endure in slow, lacunal
embalmment.

I am drained; my anxieties all
that is left in the fleshy frame of
this body I call a woman - a
veritable Pandora.

I am not afraid of dying.

No - I am afraid your hands will
tire of the weight of my
breasts pressed against you.
I am afraid my lips will no longer
be welcome to wrap themselves
around your hard shaft,
taking you in deeper as
I suffer your moans, as
the night lingers in apathy.

I am afraid the sheets will stay too
clean and crisp when you are
not there, when I part my
thighs to touch the quivering
wetness that lays between them.

I am afraid of never giving myself
fully in the throes of marriage
and sex and orgasm. I am afraid
one day I will lose the strength
of character to tell you I am done
I am done I am done I am
done.

11/29/10