coitus interruptus

you interrupt it

 

right in the middle of a thrust

 

you turn on the light

 

and light up, poker-

 

faced in the middle of my

 

most profound craving

 

then i look at you

 

and you glare, full of yourself

 

but empty of me

 

what you looking at?

 

you spit in my face, angry

 

that i should resent your

 

indiscreet distance

 

summing up the wordlessness

 

of the affair’s end.