I’d be hard pressed
not to tell you what a doe-eyed
impression you leave:
silk chest & moans
and the way your mouth fell open
when I opened the door.
that I recorded.

when you smiled, it twisted my nerves.
I’ll remember that.

I’m looking up at you about to laugh
but know better:
learned to lie still in
quake. I spend days
rehearsing affection
in the mirror.
your hands are kind of
loose
around my neck even though
you said you like to be in charge
and you’re honest to god
the sweetest, warmest thing
I’ve ever met.
I grab your forearm
and dig my nails in it.
practice being pithy about certain things,
guarded,
I snap my teeth shut.
please.

I’m trying not to laugh.
my knees hurt.
my chin gently cupped by your
palms.
your hand is still loose
around my neck
so I say it again,
harder.
choke me.
please.

kill me,
fuck.

“the masochist”