Her breathe on my neck, my hands on her thighs.
I'm supposed to fit there, she says –
Not with words, but her tongue –
Licking a path along my jaw, fitting her lips over my pulse.

This is how she meant us to be.
Pressed together like timepieces,
Fitting so imperfectly, so beautifully.
And she wants this,
Wants to feel me inside of her.

But not like this –
Never like this.
Cause the only 'us' she believes in
Begins with an F an E and a T.

And I'm not a fucking donor.
I won't support her charity,
Cause the minute I do, she'll end it
The next week because it excites her.

"Killing your seed is like killing you," she says.
And I guess it's supposed to hurt,
Supposed to sting 'cause it's the first time
She has ever admitted anything to me.
But it's just like watered down wine –

Pretty to look at, but utterly pointless.

And in the middle of the night,
Her mouth full and her fingers working
magic beneath dirty two-dollar sheets,
I read the multi-colored post-it notes taped to her ceiling.
Constantly reminding her that:

We were broken before we knew we could be fixed.