desire in a cup in a bag

dear sex im older than i was

my belly’s softened

I bare the bruises 

less bashfully

more than a few

I remember latency

more vivid than the consummate stuff

kiddish foreplay that never afted

because I couldn't say

I want or gently

thought I lost you

at the cemetery of pragmatism

waiting for the egg to drop

I became a ghost

and a father

when you kissed my neck I came 

alive like a burning calendar

dayless 

confused i'm always busy

almost