Candied Apple


September 7, 2015. – A little something something to delight your palette.

My sexual partners have varied over the years.

From ages, to body shapes, to ethnicities and gender variations.

All male or hyper masculine.

My skin has been touched by indigenous and the settled.

My mouth has tasted the lips, from worlds that no one thinks, wonders or cared about.

A lesson of wants and desires, as each person lays me down on their bed, their couch, their backseat or their place of business.

That one church stoop will never be the same again.

I moan.

They whimper.

Sweat is swapped and tongues twist.

Rising and falling as hips collide.

As nails grow deep into flesh.

Until we each reach that moment of heavenly sticky bliss.

And even though I embrace their difference, and fantasize later about our similarity, I’ll always remember this:

I probably faked it.


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