Coitus In My Mind

By Georgia Bowan

The grey guts are hurt when I think about it, chest gets heavier every time and I swear on it.

Too much of a physical overload, even after all those times I thought I was numbed and dissipated.

But it still came back, still crushing my sternum, concaving inwards. Unnatural positioning.

At least it feels like that (oh god it feels like that)

UHHHHHA. Split it, split it it in half.

That’s the sound of blur vision or going bright red behind the eyes. You have a grip on my shoulder, drag me down under. You have me protruding through luke-warm grey water, gurgle gurgle through the blood in the windpipe, let it pour out the eyes, nose and mouth of a woman who is always agape.

Always too inviting to foes like you.

Gurgling on your fingers in my mouth (but only in a wet dream belonging to somebody else)

Remember what I asked? What you asked me?When I met you and when you met me?

I was drinking on the porch, smoking in the cupboard, fully clothed in the shower and naked in the streets. Remember what I said? All that cunted jazz, six beers in, coitus in my mind.

I am! A damn fool. Something like that.

You said it before, and I know it was true. And I don’t think you knew how soft I was, like an under-developed skull belonging to an embryo. Because you pressed way too hard from yet so far, you weren’t even tangible. Skin on skin felt like a disturbed delusion, a hallucination birthed by a crazy pervert.

But you managed to fracture me anyway.

You said it before, I am not a stranger or a friend. (But you seem to know me well enough) When I pulled away you got surprised.

“That isn’t like you. Something in your wiring has changed.” Take a step back, forget how to write.

I was getting afraid but I didn’t tell you. You were getting bored or horny or both, you didn’t tell me. Man, you had it lucky, I couldn’t tell you. You stupid stunted man-child, I had to tell you. Coitus in my mind but I’ll never tell you.