they denied me the right to love you,
and you decided to lie
first to your friends
then to yourself.
I was forced to recall those
sacred moments to satisfy
their heterosexual hunger.
We'd watch those 'movies' in
my bedroom late into the night
and I'd miss ten minutes and
you'd miss fifteen. And if
(she) they had known of the location
of your hands
(she) they would have ran.
The same hands that wrote in
our notebooks and caressed
my face now penetrated deeper
than any other
word or touch. You knew of
my naievete and I knew of
your experience.
(that is what made me thirst for you.)
How I miss your hands, moving
my pajammas and resting on my
protruding hipbones as you
kiss me down from
my raised-up tank top.
You knew what you did to me
and after a while, I knew what
I did to you. You excited my
entire being
and if I dared to,
I could drive you wild
if only my door would've locked.
That door is still open for you
and I'm not naieve anymore
because
you weren't the only one.
- Jacqueline C. Audrey
