(inspired by Kim Addonizio)
As my thighs and my jaws and my fingers ache,
I want to be touched again;
in the midst of grey bleakness I want
to be privately smiled at,
for wine to warm me like that first sip of brandy
after six days stranded on an icy hilltop.
I want you to read to me.
Save the florid declarations of cliched quotes
for descriptions of us to others who ask -
for me, give sinew to words
and show me in deed.
As I shudder into deep rage, dismantling
my stop-mechanism to shriek the thickened
screams of a thousand ugly goddesses,
hold me when I'm done.
I want you to make me believe I'm beautiful.
And when you see me stripped and sex-drenched
on the threadbare carpet,
spitting X-Ray vision into your retinas,
I want you to take my face in your hands
and tell me you fucking love me.