The Sweet Sting of Anger

Although disagreements and arguments are a part of every relationship,  there's always one aspect to it that re-bonds you in a way nothing else can: make-up sex.

Although Bent and I NEVER argue (ha), when we do, it's almost always followed by this heady, luscious ritual that's fraught with intimacy, vulnerability and need, all rolled up into one. Here are my Vicey thoughts about make-up sex.

At the End

At the end of pointy words

that impale and adhere me to the wall,

there is a moment when we both sigh--

we let go of the sinewy string between us and float into

a place where armor's stripped from us.

There's need at the end. My insides broil with it,

and in between my legs melts into a fiery puddle--

 all of the doubt melts and my body

opens, receives you

and you are bare, too.

Your cock has a thin sheath of worry

that penetrates into me.

You move, our eyes meet, and the tears have not yet dried.

At the end, everything that was opened closes with shuddering sighs,

breath staccato, motion in the ocean

where the salty waves of our hurt dry on our cheeks,

tangle in our hair like waves left on dry sand...

we melt into one another

and what was open, closes, with you trapped inside of me.

And you are in much further than

 at the end

the time before.

~Vice


I love you Bent.