by Ben Nardolilli
Darling, I must tell you, how much I love you, seeing your body bloated reminds me of the sacrifices you make, transforming yourself so that you are no longer desirable to other men, helping me to sleep easy at night. You know that I am the only one who finds your sausage toes and fingers so adorable, your double chin so sexy, the sides of your hips erupting like shelves of flesh over the pants you refuse to alter. I would have it no other way, I can tell when you are coming and going, hearing you rolling down the hall, there is nothing to suspect you of, you deny yourself nothing, including me, it is others who deny you, but I am not one of them. You’re a woman with a whole slaughterhouse on her bones. I love you.
Death Defying
The best sex you’ll ever have is after fighting,
And the best fighting is when killing
Is involved, so the best sex is the near-death sex,
The intercourse of two targets coming together,
And this is why the Italians
Have good sex,
And this is why the Latinos
Have good sex,
And why Scandinavians
Must have great sex with themselves,
Because they’re suicidal,
I sometimes wonder if it is only in one house,
Never on the level of nations,
That this truth makes sense, that it is a truth,
Jews and Germans don’t seem
To have the best sex together,
All I know is, it is working for you two
In apartment 31, between the interludes
Of nice soul trained music,
Comes the laughter,
Comes the screaming
Comes the music,
The comes the cumming,
Don’t worry, my ear was on the wall,
In place of a painting,
I was doing research for my art.
Ben Nardolilli is a twenty-four year old writer currently living in Arlington, Virginia. The strangest place he ever masturbated was a synagogue.
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