Car

There weren’t nothin’ pretty about it.
Just tossed up against the hood of a car-
Splayed like a drunken prom queen,
Like a tramp,
Like a god
In all my finery.
Like jeans and flannel,
Hair soft and kinked and smellin’ sweet,
And sweat,
And nails along his back
And muscle beneath it
Tense and aching,
Begging like his lips on my throat,
Like his hands on my thighs
And howl,
body keening at the smell of him,
Rising like warm dough like a wave like heat
Steam off the pavement
Breaking against him,
Broken by him,
Back of my head slick with dew
Neck cracked back,
Cracked open,
With a moan and-
Ah!
Raked through my throat to claw the air,
Alto reaching for the high notes
Screeching for the rafters,
And hushed just the same.
Soft from necessity
Delicacy,
Fear and need-
Bless me father for I do sin,
And like it.
pant at its release.
Warm and mellow on the metal,
Cool and fine as I recline,
And look up,
Into confused blue eyes,
Bordered by the sky
And liquid in the night.
The night-
Cool and mellow,
Warm and fine, on the hood of a car,
Like a god,
Like a girl.