First Time

I recall the sleepy smell of your sex;

beckoning to me.

The heat has risen to this urgent muscle,

that is flexing with selfishness.

I fear your desire,

how it will taste,

how it will take,

but the utmost horrifying prospect being,

how it will make me feel.

I have been taught not to entrust others,

with my being.

Above all else,

especially not with my sexuality,

You are calling my mouth,

pleading with it

“Oh, Fuck.”

And so,

my throat mercifully

-fucks you.

All that hurts me now is-

the disinterest.

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