Act II

You take it from me gently,
but it still shatters my very being.

Drink from me
my youth, my blood, my soul.

Push the silk up to my waist
pull my hips into yours.

Two characters in a play,
the Act of growing up.

I can’t see you
but I feel every cut of you.

Fingers intertwined
in your velvet curls.

Limbs ache
untrained to the position.

Sheets, clean and soft
now spoiled by sin.

A split second and eternity
one in the same.

So simple for you to hook my cheek,
as I swallow your worm with satisfaction.

But then I feel a tug, tug,
tug.

As you try to pull the hook out,
try to let me go.

The more you yank,
the deeper it goes.

I cling to you.