‘I like that you feel deeply’ he said
After calling me a ‘temptress’
‘It’s what makes you a good artist’
But does it make me a person?
worthy of truth?
‘No, I mean, you’re tempting’
Has it altered the way in which you behave around me?
Do you see an invitation to prey on the softness of my skin, to challenge the resilience that has kept me in
shape for all this time?
I want to believe the simplicity of your words,
that I am more than what I do to you,
that you see me as a whole and not as a thing that can be meddled and played with.
Attention must be paid, I demand a response that is final and infinite.
My passion cannot be tamed and I will not let you mangle what is good in the throbs of fingers, I only want to be touched in love and not for the sake of you curiosity and lust.
My skin is not detached, I want to be wanted for all that I am:
for these deep feelings you find so compelling.
But you chose another, in me you saw a lack that I am not aware of.
And yet still you chase, wanting the cake, wanting both without consequence.
But I am not your consolation prize,
So don’t tease me with your affectations of kindness and intimacy,
We were only close artificially.