Listen. That’s the music of vibrators
at the end of the day. Not all of us
get to be filthy buggered mess makers.
Some of us are cleaners. Some are loveless.
Some sleep alone. That’s why other people’s
sex lives are a drag. If it’s not bragging
then it’s resentment. If it’s not facials
then it’s “Master, may I?” That’s hell, fucking
hell. Give me widows, the lonely, the shy.
Give me all who are neglected and numb,
blind, on fire. All who crave but have no one
to turn to. Every night some of us cry
in our sleep. Some lick sticky fingers. Some
fill the whole world with their dreams of passion.