just because you’ve got pretty eyes
and a big dick does not mean
you can tell me what to do.

my thoughts always drift back to your
mouth, your smouldering gaze, your
expert hands on (and in) me. your firm
grip on my throat, steadfast determination
as you wet me down with your words,
gruff growling syntax punctuated with
feral moans, biting my lip. of course
i’ve had others since, but you knock a-
round my brain, a low hum, a broken
carnival gravitron taken out by
a northeast thunderstorm where the
pressure in the sky is palpable. size queen
i am Not, but i long to sink down on
your couch just to see if i still Can.

just because you’ve got pretty eyes
and a big dick does not mean
you can tell me what to do.

i never prepared for exams. could not
tell you shit about the pythagorean
theorem, the nuances of world wars.
but studying your face as You dis-
appear? our eyes locked, that’s clear as
fucking day. furrowing and burrowing and
spitting and biting, your teethmarks
on my shoulder, caressed by your finger-
tips. your thighs still slick from when
i devoured you Before, as you run
your mouth in my ear like a
Good Boy, edging ever closer as you
pull me in, still, the closest we will
Ever Be. the future is a white balance
slate and i lose concentration every time.

just because you’ve got pretty eyes
and a big dick does not mean
you can tell me what to do.

releasing one another, we collapse in
a sweaty, panting pile of naked limbs
entwined. stealing moments nestled in
your arms, your handprints stamped
on my neck and my ass. priority mail,
tracked delivery guaranteed. you always
said this was when i was the most beautiful,
in your eyes. stripped down, hair a mess,
eyeliner blurred, glasses removed (by you),
emotional fortress demolished. i have
never felt so seen or so safe
in a man’s bed.

just because you’ve got pretty eyes
and a big dick does not mean
you can tell me what to do.

i cannot rid myself of the details of You
so, these words are my college try. i will
never truly be free, like that bathmat
that absorbs every last stain. my body
burns and aches and throbs, keeping
me up nights, gasping for more of you,
a man i fear is long gone. yearning
for a ghost is a funny, albeit sad thing. You
live in the backdrop of my darkest,
filthiest thoughts that can melt
steel beams. yet i Never Forget
my mantra;

just because you’ve got pretty eyes
and a big dick does not mean
you can tell me what to do.