Poem, unfinished

Poem, unfinished

It wasn’t your body moving
in the dance you never taught me
Those perfect hips rolling
were never yours
But it was you

    fucking me

      all along

It was never your lips that touched mine…
“touched,” what an innocent word…
teeth and tongue in some animal hunger…
No, that wasn’t you, either.

It wasn’t your hands run through my hair,
Not your nails that broke my skin
The rhythm that brought me past myself
Didn’t come from your drum.

It wasn’t your body moving
in the dance you never taught me
Those perfect hips rolling
were never yours
But it was you

    fucking me

      all along

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