What a Girl Wants

I dreamt I was about to share an E
With Christina Aguilera
(this was her hotter, harder self
In her “Dirrty” phase). She made her play:

She proposed we cuddle together
For eight hours straight. I tried to read
Her the D.A.R.E. recital, but for nought:
Her persistence paid off, and I was high

On the thought of that tawny sweat-sheened eight-hour writhe
We’d slide out together on the quilt-strewn floor
(why were we in my dorm?). But when the pill
Was split, she’s gone--

And suddenly the place was full of neck beard
Types sprouting paunches, and I bummed
Hits of bottled water off them; yes,
And I was stealing bottles too, Aquafina,

Deer Park, hoarding them behind a burning barrel.
Good God, I guess I was thirsty in my sleep.
When I awoke I made coffee: no thirst-quencher, that;
Not quite a drug, nor a substitute

For love. Perhaps you, too, had a mug
If you awoke from dreams of Sasha Grey
Who probably didn’t leave you a proper hug
(but perhaps, even in dreams, she won’t give you

The time of day?). Well, you can find an answer
For the absences that ache. I ball up my quilt
For the laundry, and the warm hope I sip
That we share my next shift of eight-hour sleep,

The better to put to rest the cuddle slut’s dreams
Of sweat-stained hours sharing sticky heat,
Or the torment of Sasha’s tight wet holes,
Still taunting, teasing your hard-sprung meat.