failure

the last two times that we've had sex i have failed

when you pressed my slender wrists down

back against your cool metal head board

and slide so meaningfully onto me

and in that moment i felt everything sexual and meaningful we were

and i was overcome

and i came too soon and was

limp

and then you were on the phone with your ex

and i was

limp

and now we find each other with candles around us

and wine and vodka and tequila

i hope you weren't bracing yourself for the inevitable

was it a protective thing?

did i push you into drinking more and more?

i know i kissed you first

and i know i looked at you with a sexual hunger first

why can't i see anything less? or is it more?

and then we're in your bed

you're asking me such sobering things

"what happens in the morning"

"what about him?"

and i honestly don't remember what i answer

but i make it sound good

and i give you head

and i dont make you come

and i finger you and rub your clit

and i dont make you come

and i slide inside of you

and i dont make you come

and you make me come

and i am limp

and i fall asleep in your bed

as you vomit uncontrollably in your mother's room

and i wake up alone

limp