Soft Sex

I plug in the old stereo,
And begin to play the singles of my devotion.
Old, new, and everything between—
They purr just like the day they were recorded.

Folding apart a scene,
While I sip from your palms.
Woozy and tripping drunk on your radioactive liquor,
Stumbles and slurs make up half my language.

I think I was clumsy,
Because I had fallen in love.
The records skip a beat and a bit,
Klutz written across my forehead and my heart.

I collect the rainbow pieces,
Slipping them away and into your back pockets.
I’d keep them and take them home,
But I’m staying with you.

A push and a kiss,
Fallen across one hazy pregnant pause.
Some touches and noise,
We begin an album of our own.

You play the back-up,
And I’ll moan the vocals.
We can strum the strings together,
A resonating chord for us both.

Arching up and writhing down,
Making up the dance moves as we go.
Holding down the kick drum,
The longest heartbeats ever met.

Touching along a drunken path,
Your hands do all the talking.
Our mouths are too preoccupied,
While our hips keep up the pushing.

A groan here,
And a buck there.
Wiggling ourselves a little closer,
But spreading my thighs far apart.

We would reach the climax of the song,
But you were always a tease.
You suppress your true worth,
And I’m moaning out a halfhearted bridge.

Records spin,
And CDs are burned.
You tickle the strings,
And I fake a semi-tuned ending.

The instruments bang,
As our voices crack.
The movement splays our legs,
And we’re warbling something beautiful.

Tossing and turning through the screams,
You’ve got me itching for the power to turn off.
Singing half my heart out,
Just where would we end.