Hunny-bunny, sky-eyed man
I got off to you today
I crave the resolution of our conflict. 

I was addicted to your obsession. 
You were fixated on the emptiness inside me
and you wanted to 

                             fill

                                 me

                                       up

Tongue, fingers, cock
pushed into my deepest desires. 
You heard the pound of my heart and pussy,
fucked me to that beat until I came
close enough to meet god in the stars. 

We were wind and fire. 

You knew how to make my passion rage
soak into warm towels,
open my arms wide like I was flying
nearly break your headboard between my hands. 

You were addicted to my release, 
and I was obsessed with your pursuit.

Addiction and obsession aside, we were in love. 

I wanted you with every fiber of my being,
but could not tell that you wanted me too.

Until.

You told me, “I love you.” I felt it rise from your
where our bodies joined to your mouth, and 
I was afraid. You looked into the place I hid from all else, lit my world with your smile, 
held me as I sobbed into your left shoulder.

I still don’t know how to feel. 

Four months later, when we made love for the first, and only, time
a piece of me melted. I was so soft, 
supple and pliant. We moved together
without effort or thought,
a single breath passed between two
connected bodies. I loved you. I still do.

Six weeks later,
when you told me you couldn’t think
about my feelings, couldn’t think about us, 
you didn’t want anyone to know who I was,
my heart shattered in a new way. That 
thing that had begun to blossom 
inside me hardened, 
turned sharp with wordless, animal pain.

I think you were addicted to the fall, and
Christ knows I was always high. 

Except when I shared time with you.