Only The Damned Make Love

by Justin Wade Thompson

she sat on the edge of the bed
eating red velvet cake
in her panties
and a tiny tight undershirt

black nipples that i've sucked
for long hours
like wishing and wondering under stars

she cleans the fork
with her tongue

when she's finished
she wraps her brown legs around my head
with her cunt
in my face, on my lips
and i bury my nose
into the breach of her

she pushes tattooed arms
and sweat
along the hairless white of my chest
along the heart, along the ribs

collapsing on top of me
deeper than a fire or storm or the wrath of an awakened god

finally
she asks me
if i'd like a glass
of water

i catch my breath and answer
yes.