Temperature Control

The start of the hour
nervous digging startles us
we turn knowing we’re not alone.
This is the midnight hour,
the girl turns and smiles,
welcoming the others to their places.
We’ve come here to play
she undresses the silence
eyes stare straight ahead
they open the candy wrappers
sip and taste the romance.
Hands reach and feel
the sensation is unreal
finally, there’s someone who knows
just how it feels to be felt.
With even more buttons to push,
she leans backwards
presses downwards and laughs.
The curtains drop and close
in complete darkness
the girl recites her favorite verse
“Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt thou the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.”
She lights the one and only candle
shadows dance in the allegory
the cave has just one story.
Against the rough and uneven walls
she pulls even harder
inch up and whisper the words
to her favorite
little triggered verse.
She’s begged upon years for you
please stay and listen.
In disbelief, she transforms herself
into the goddess.
Hair and nails are imperfect
her voice is the ultimate drug,
she injects up in us
our veined arms are hers.
We slip into this state
everything calms and settles
it’s warm to be here like this
listening to the girl
who has so many smart things to say.

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