immediately following masturbation:
That moment when the warmth and intensity
quickly escape [where do they go?],
And you’re suddenly aware—on your back, vulnerable—of
Just how alone and pathetic you are.
I’m also raw to the touch, saturated
in thoughts of him,
Mentally fighting the same face
the one that delivered so much pleasure seconds prior...
in my cobwebbed imagination.
He is no longer welcome in my thoughts. I’ve gotten what I needed.
I mentally punch him in the mouth while
His cruel smile
His light eyes…the blinding sparkle causing unrest.
Now he rests uneasily upon me—
that barren silence only interrupted
by the space heater on the nightstand—
still perfectly aligned to my breasts,
but failing to serve its masturbatory purposes of
sound and sensation...
It’s just a space heater
On my naked chest;
That’s the thing after masturbation:
When you’re done,
Things go back
to what they are.