Nothing: How I’m Loved Most Intimately
Eyes bloodshot from the blunt
you smoked before I arrived
We discuss Paul Celan
& I learn that you’re a classicist
You say your name starts with A
but your Grindr icon says S
Your belt comes off,
strikes my back
Grimace, & my mouth holds the weapon—-
you rub lotion where you struck me
The nightstand now littered
with a newly opened condom wrapper
You slip inside me (the magic of lube)—-
all my former lovers haunt me
I watch them make love to the people
they left me for, care for them,
Until I am nothing
SLUT with the smell of poppers
Your agape mouth—-RUSH—-you kiss me,
fuck me, hand hard to my face, saliva spit from your mouth
This is how I’m loved most intimately
by being made just a hole
You finish your glass of straight whiskey
before walking me to the door
[I have only had casual sex in this lifetime]
just before shutting it, ushering me out, you ask:
Do you believe in God?
2 thoughts on "Nothing: How I’m Loved Most Intimately"
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This is a really effective piece of writing–I think that the end also is very surprising and curious and engaging
Your best writing so far that I’ve read. Very brave in its candor. I think you touch upon large issues surrounding casual sex and its limitations and possibilities. The kiss and the question at the end sound to me like sparks of something bigger that is in conflict with the nihilism of your title.