Nakedness Never Felt so Good
timothy michael fulghum
Sex is the handshake between satin suits
here to expose deepest disguises. Gone
are the cottons covering falsehoods
tongues have haplessly spewed. Gone
are the rings reigning lust, pop-up warnings
warranting fidelity. Gone is the fear
forged into daily costumes. Nakedness
never felt so good.
Nails tear through insecurity while mouths meet
to discuss pleasantly reluctant “Ah”s.
Aching, begging, “More.” Hands ring round wrists tightly,
chains of promised pleasure, as waxy Cheshired crescents
smile. Shame loses its hold in ecstasy; emptiness
is forgotten as teeth tickle
porcelain napes, sensitive still –
despite expecting the touch. Giddiness
consumes lips longing to be caressed by the other.
“Oh,”s sound, tongues twirl, and skin
slides against skin.
Captured by desire – dumbed by bliss,
neither man makes note:
sex has evolved, existing no more as a subtle
handshake hoping to fill loveless nights.
Nakedness never felt so good.