Conclusions & Findings
The body as accusation—:
naked in front of a door, a set of keys
thrust to the floor. Moans. Perhaps. Or just hips,
gyrating like a small string of words, lost
in the ear. Everything
small as a conclusion. As the complaints
of legs clamped shut. Fists clenched.
A slap. Once, I thought sex was supposed to be good
fun. Now, I can’t remember. And you, touching me
like a pair of hands emptying
a bathtub full of filthy water. You refuse to say
anything true of the windows, the light
falling at a slant, the floor that bore such a likeness
to my back. You forced me to ferry
bravery from a bed frame. Shouldn’t I want to be found
& fossilized? Titled like royalty. As momentum continues
to shift—, the hard consonant of my body, measured.
All these words we’ve had, & still, I want what any girl would
want: [verbal] stimulation. A vaccination
of your body inside mine. To own something,
small or otherwise, that will never yield.