A Thousand Orgasms

He gave me a thousand orgasms

Before he died of a broken heart

Someone else had cut him loose

And he found his way to me

A piece of advice

Find a man

Who has something

To prove

Then brace yourself

You’re about to find yourself

Changed

Within minutes, we were stripped

Left with nothing but our legs

And our mouths

And our suggestions to each other

About which way to go

And what things to try

In heartbeats, we were moving past

Our own histories

Well...I was

He was lost in his objective

To prove that he was a man

Someone should regret losing

I’ll save you all the clever sexual verbs

How he ravished me

Devoured me

Did things to me

That a half-starved lion

Would do to a flank steak

None of that’s interesting

At least not to me

I’m sure your minds must be...reeling

All you need to know

--The only lascivious thing

You need to keep

In

Mind

Is that with that man

I experienced a thousand orgasms

And what I didn’t know

Until I was with him

Is that orgasms

Are experiences

And by virtue of them

Being experiences
No two are alike

Snowflakes, you know,

Although that’s really just bullshit

Because you the fuck can tell what a snowflake looks like

Unless you put it under a microscope

No, I’m talking about--

What I”m talking about is--

A story

Or, you know, a thousand stories

A thousand perfect

Simple, and yet, undeniably complex

Little stories

Little deaths

French, you know?

And that was astounding to me

Because I’d--

Oh God, this is kind of a confession, isn’t it?

I didn’t mean it to be

Although, I guess it’s impossible to talk about sex

Without confessing something

Anyway, uh--

I’d never had an orgasm

Never, not once

I mean, I’d been with, you know,

A fair share, of uh, you know

But never--

Not once, uh--never

Never ever

So...as you can imagine

The first time--

Well, and then, the fact

That the first time

Was followed up by the, uh--haha

The second and the third

Straight to the thousandth

Straight on to Neverland

Straight on to morning, you know?

I mean, I went there

To Hook and back

Crocodiles and all

And, uh, it was…

But the whole thing was so--um, bodily, you know?

Not bodily, what’s the word I mean?

Physical

It was so physical

But not intimate

Not, I mean, not even really sexual

Just…

I mean, truth be told,

It was kind of lonely

Kind of isolated

Because he wasn’t with me, you see?

He was off somewhere else

Thinking about who he was showing up

And there I was

Pressed up against him

Wondering when he was going to check in

And realize who I was

That I wasn’t the person who hurt him

That I was…

That I was someone whose life

Was changing right in front of his eyes

But it never happened

One orgasm after another

And the whole time

It’s just me

It’s just me and that grinding axe of his

. . . . .

When it was all over

I felt like I needed to thank him

But all I could do was stare at the back of him

Watching his jeans go up

And his shoulders shrug down

He was disappointed

In me or himself

I couldn’t tell which

And he left through the side door

Grabbing an apple on his way out

I was stung more than if he had been a hornet

Laying in bed, wondering--

Did something that just happen for me

Or at me

Or to me

Or with me…

Not with me

That was for sure

I took a drag off a joint I’d rolled

And thought to myself--

Jesus Christ

A week later he was dead

Drowned in that little lake

Over near the high school

We were young, you know

Stuff like that, well--

Stuff like that used to happen all the time