humidity caresses it all
I never thought of summer
as a sexy time for me
until I started loving sweat;
until beach sand in crevices was
a pleasantly abrasive reminder of said crevices;
until the rubbing of thighs felt like pleasuring;
until a peeling sunburn felt like a strip tease.
This is not a body acceptance saga.
I simply have a fascination with fluids,
detritus and friction; with the awkward,
gauche and deep dark body bits summer
Summer reminds me of where I touch myself.
Each shift makes a new clammy fold to feel.
Summer lets me show off working feet.
Summer lets me play with tan lines.
Summer lets my pores release joyous
cleansing sweat in public, reminding everyone that
that is one of several self lubricating functions
my body has.
Summer time is marked by
sun rashes, lawn lines, bike bruises,
sweat stains, and metabolized ice cream.
Summer brings out my excema,
my dander, my bug-bite-prone
rarely shaven calves to redden in the sun shine.
Sexy is, for me, now a summer time thing.
I get swamp crotch and hairs venturing down
the inner thigh. With no bra it’s like I have two extra pits.
And humidity caresses it all.
I’ve ever had
started with a word
they started with a look
I can’t say
it won’t happen
I can’t promise
to never take a word
but allow me
to be wary
behind a word
but words are very
nice for fantasy
when you utter
to ignite the
a toxic river
until it burns thru
to an eye roll,
that may be
of gases from
I, btwn words, slipped
ex. by way of
that made a
and a ‘what’
intention with positions
than a diplomatic
I believe I pressed,
sinking into the swamp
of something romantic
and ambiguously complicated
suddenly stickiness became disgusting
when the skin surfaces btwn us
were threatened by
(your) overly potent concoction of
shame, is the result of interest and enjoyment
and now, see a sort of masochistic intimacy
based on laying out all these
caused by being in the vicinity of