Clutch
His grip on me is ten inches thick, making incisions in all my dimensions. Can you see the extension… where we connect? The tightest grasp gloved with precise mechanics. Slippery from head to toe yet still not slipping from one another’s clutch. My legs roped around him Double Dutch as he finds his opening to jump in. Handles turning over and over as breathlessness ensues. The chanting of our heartbeats in rhythm as we take turns taking control. This hold… like glue where things get sticky and messy, a confession of insatiable starvation for each other. A paste, thick and endangered… only we remain.
Will You Be Gentle?
It’s been so long since I’ve done this with vulnerability, a certain unfamiliarity. The lights are on and I’m undressing in front of you. I’ve talked a lot of shit and honestly I didn’t think it would come to this. But now we are face to face.
I’ve imagined being in this place with you, this space with you, just us two…this is really happening.
I’m shy for you to touch me in ways we both have explained. Tell me you will be gentle. Show me you will be patient.
Use the softest parts of you to touch me in all the ways we’ve imagined. Guide me…move my
hands for me. Teach my lips to learn your lessons.
Tell me to come closer and I let the warmth of your body envelope me. You put your lips on mine slowly. I feel your tongue tickle mine. I’m crazy now. I feel you everywhere.
I’m sure I’ve never done this before. Your explanation of benefits and I’m the recipient. Make no mistake I want you too, this proximity is causing me to feel things…
I’m vibes hypersensitive as you look into my eyes. I feel that rush of heat needed to succeed. Will you be gentle? Little droplets of water leading to the falls, gently guiding me over.
Will you be patient?
I have the same urges
I’m just nervous
I want to feel your oils
Smoothing and spoiling me
Leaving a glow on me
Will you take it slow and easy with me? This is only the beginning…
and more than just about the pen.
After the Argument
We had our first argument
…and to be honest, I purposely started it. So I… could apologize in the way you like. I like pushing your buttons and watch you hit the floor as we elevate. Damn, you are delicious when you’re mad. I actually smiled as I slammed the door, thinking about how I’d beg you for more and more…later. I kept that shit brewing all day, ignoring your texts, getting you vexed, knowing I’m about to get sexed top to bottom…you were rocket mad and I sent you into orbit just so I could absorb all that goodness for the grief I gave you. I was a bad girl…push your punishment into me. No need to ask for an apology…I’ll show you how sorry I am until the sun rises and sets again.
Biography
Alex Ewing’s poems have appeared in Juked, Rigorous Magazine, Dying Dahlia, and others. She attended Howard University and currently lives in Southern Ohio.