The Bear of Your Body: A Poem

Half malt drunk on moonlit mezcal

I drive forty miles north to your door

even though I shouldn’t. There is so much guilt

laced in the slow-motion bloom of your smirk

when you feel me

slither in beneath you and lock myself

down. Between me and the bear of your body

there is ample room for the sweaty burden

of shame to writhe it’s way up my chest

and pry into my pores.

When I wrap myself

around you, I pluck the last strand

of my pride and leave it

underneath the sheets to burn.

This is a poem I’ve been working on. I am thinking of switching it over to prose, but we shall see. Thanks for reading!

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