"Aftertaste"
The Teacher:
I should have stopped.
But I didn't.
Because when your mouth opened beneath mine,
I saw the future I wanted
curled around your name
and trembling.
Your silence now is not quiet.
It is a scream across the hallway,
a bruise behind my eye.
You won't meet my gaze.
That delicious defiance
you once wore
is now avoidance,
raw and flushed.
And still
you glance.
You always glance.
It's the kind of glance that ruins careers.
That paints stories across thighs.
That says: "Do it again."
I know what your lips taste like
with truth between them.
And I know
you dream of me now.
Not with innocence.
Not with shame.
But hunger.
I smile when you flee.
I'll be behind you eventually.
There is nowhere to go.
The Student:
I've been avoiding mirrors.
They show too much.
They show a girl
with your mouth still on hers.
They show a throat
tight with wanting.
They show a girl
who liked it.
I can still feel your hand.
The slow, criminal way
you touched my face
like I'd already said yes
and you were just claiming
what was yours.
You didn't ask.
You didn't need to.
My body begged before my voice ever dared.
And now
I can't think.
You pass behind me in class,
and my stomach flips
like I'm a child
and danger tastes like perfume.
I hate that I want you.
I hate that I ache.
I hate that when you walk away,
I hope you'll come back
and ruin me
again.