My life is about
filthily writing letters to Tim
contemplating complex imaginations of intimacy
getting c** stuck in between the crevices of my teeth
touching the special areas I'd been birthed with
noticing the crooked bone in his tight undergarment
making shushed grunts underneath my blankets
sobbing about loosing my virginity to him all the time
desiring everything with a passionate touch
and dreaming about everything while I slumber in the nude.