“Make sure nobody sees you leave –
hood over your head, keep your eyes down.
Tell your friends you’re out for a run;
you’ll be flushed when you return.”—Taylor Swift, “Illicit Affairs”
He’s in the other room watching
TV with his friends, drinking
beer and waxing
poetic about other women
while I’m one wall away
thinking
about
how I don’t even know
what color your eyes are
and I don’t really need to know
because you’ll be blindfolded
when I get my body on yours
anyway. I’ll take control, make
dark conversation in your ear with my
hand wrapped around your neck
pushing you further towards
the imaginary worlds we created
for ourselves to exist in.
Everything is pleasure here. I am
with you down in hell, writhing
and wanting and figuring out
what this means
for futures he may not be a part of.
For desires he may not be a part of.
I would lift your chin when we were done,
raise your lips to mine. Sigh myself
back into you,
sweet and sated and sold.