You are luscious. So what if your friend lurks
near by? Lust makes us all wack. For weeks you
hinted at clit-smacks, bong-hits, circle-jerks,
love-bites. Your panties and hijab cast to
the floor, thighs around my head. “I’ll rewire
her,” you joked, as she moved closer to watch
you melt. For weeks you’ve told her how desire
makes you melt, flood the bed with each: “¡debauch
me, ay papi!” One day you’ll lay between
Zhaleh’s knees, lapping the way I do now,
while I slide deep inside her, then pull out
so you can lick my blood-splattered cock clean.
“Leh’s ours,” you said, making her flood. A vow?
Of course. We’ve all survived chastity’s drought.
Leh is short for Zhaleh, a Persian girl’s name meaning heavy rain. A hijab is a veil worn by some Muslim women.