fuckbuddies always ask me:   when will i see you again?                             oh gosh

 

please don’t future-tense me

 

                                                            i have prepared a place for you          says god

 

 

                        what                                        no thanks

 

                        what does the bible say again

                                                           

in the beginning:                     god allowed fucking

 

at the end:                               blake slips out of the door

 

                                                                             yeah, something like that

 

            so then i feel up the city                     flirt with the moon                 

 

if the moon is shacked        up with someone else        i flirt with whoever i can

 

                        and most of the time it’s marx                                                but tonight he’s aggressive

 

he follows me back into my apartment          knocks over my notched bedpost

 

            doesn’t apologize                    oh well

                                                                                    i forgive him               this is a holy space

 

he wants to lie down with me             but i tell him no

 

and he doesn’t seem to understand                                                     i say

 

inside of this temple i follow the mantra of milk cartons:                 

 

after use—discard

 

and so he leaves                      perfect and still untouched                

 

and as i watch him walk down the street

 

i clutch his manifesto                          i hear it saying:                                  

 

thank you                    you haven’t disappointed me yet