You say you like being with me because
“I’m not like other girls,” because
I am not afraid to be “nasty”;
As if nastiness is a quality so simple to achieve,
a matter of articulated desire,
not a state of mind I’ve spent years cultivating.
Born into a naked house, I come by it honestly.
I’ve chased that shame away years ago,
refuse to fuck in the darkness so I can see exactly what
effect I have on you, the coordinated movement of our bodies
becoming an exaltation without end, an insatiable questioning,
You still shower after every time, seeking absolution
for the hours spent on your knees in worship.