The Truth Is

The truth is
I can’t make love any longer
To a man I am not
Crazy mad in love with.

I can’t make love any longer
To a man who isn’t
Looking me in the eyes
With all the passion of his life
And telling me with his mouth
And his words
His touch
Tongue
Fingers
Hands
Arms
Cock
That he loves me
And wants me forever.

I have made love for the last time
To a man whose love
For me becomes unsure when
My passion for him
For love
For making love
And bodies and sweat
For the riding slowly
Quickly in me
While his mouth
Is ever on my mouth
Breath in my breath
Becomes more than
His soul can bear of me.

I will only make love to a man
Talking
Whispering
Singing while he’s
Making love to me
The man
Who gets this deep
Deep need in me
And meets me here
Again
Again
And again.

A man who understands the bruises
On my lips from
The kisses that almost kill me
Make life worth living.