a poem.

Photo by Ava Sol on Unsplash

as you run your hands up
to meet my breasts
and press your lips onto
the spot i have been helplessly
aching for you to touch
my back arches against my will
and you look up from my quivering
lower half and ask,
do i meet your expectations

my body melts at his words as if to say,
you have exceeded them, my love

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A villanelle-like poem.

Photo by Elia Pellegrini on Unsplash

My ears bleed from the siren of your absence
my heart beats the saddest melody

Whatever the gods may be, I know they punish me
When you seep your way into my dreams

Pain is known to have many faces —
yours is all of them
my heart beats the saddest melody

Perhaps Sophocles once felt then as I do now:
Alone and in love with all things unbearable

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Xiomara Desirée

Writer. English graduate of the University of Illinois at Chicago. Latinx woman. Black lives matter.