Poem: Fantasy Misunderstood
via a connecting platform,
you didn’t know that George – or Brad, or whatever movie star you named – likes to do this certain thing
with his saliva-coated thumb.
Always. Finally, after all the imagining and the longing
this gorgeous man finds you on your hands and knees
with ass tilted up
and your spreading just beginning.
Corking the starfish they call it.
One of your fantasy men also likes forcing women to suck it deeper,
until gagging or tears.
And the other one likes urinating on his conquests.
Don’t they know you only wanted to love the beauty, the dazzling glow?
Don’t they know you abhor the grime? Don’t they
understand you want the ineffable tremble maker?