Erotica Poetry

Kiss Me Again

[Editor’s Note – The piece was first published in Normal – A Desi Queer Horror Zine. You can purchase the print copy from here.]

Endless Sex is a dream come true- or is it?

She didn’t bite her lip
I expected her to,
That’s what they all start with – at least when it’s for me.
It’s what gets me to know they’re sure
about this
about me
it’s always good to be sure, no?
She pulled me into the room, and here I am
Fixated on those lips
Did I want her to bite them?
I can’t get my mind off it.
Maybe it’s become a habit.
She has become a habit in the 30 minutes we have spent together.
Unhealthy for another
A habit for me.

What… do you want from me
I’m almost breathless
There’s something about her not being as predictable as the others
That makes me… uncomfortable.
I’m struggling to find words to describe her
The tips of her cold fingers graze over my ears
It’s always the same, there’s always no struggle.
I’m supposed to like surprises,
But I want her to do the same things like the others.
Her fingers reach out, as though she’s hugging me
She gets hold of the elongated zip at the nape of my neck
something that helps me take this off myself
My hair’s still wet, fresh out of the pool
the chlorinated stench fills the room
I look outside the window, the sun is glistening on the water
and the suit I take more time to remove than the tightly double knotted shoes on my feet
is off
the thin layer of water on my body quickly starts drying as it meets the air
And slowly, as we’re tumbling over the stickiness of our bodies
The other suit comes off too.
It’s funny how things can speed up if they have to
Time is a strange thing

My mind has slowed down for the millionth time today
The clock ticks slowly.
As though it’s not moving at all
It’s 8:17 am
She pulls my chin towards her and we’re already very much there
I dig my fingers inside her hair, long and flowy
Rough at the ends dusted with the powder of a newly purchased swim cap
All the moaning drowns out these voices in my head
She’s a loud one
Everything about her surprises me
I can’t concentrate
But that isn’t like me, not at all
I’m usually in control
She uses her thumb and index fingers to pull at my nipples
There’s a sharp pain I like
I’m enjoying this and we’re almost at the finale
she’s pulling the zip down my suit
the suit I thought was already gone
I look at the mirror and see myself
staring at me
everything is good.
This feels good
But why does this feel like what do you call that?
Déjà vu.
I wish she’d bite that lip

The moaning seems familiar
the chlorine hangs in the air
Less exciting than the usual
She surprises me and the water outside has such a shimmery glisten
It’s 8:17 am
The laze I woke up with remains
As though time isn’t moving
There’s a sharp pain I like
Maybe because she yanked that zip too hard
I’m almost breathless
But I feel almost nothing as she touches the sticky skin
Her hair smells of chlorine
her fingers seem like they know me
She hasn’t bitten that lip
Is this my kink?
I feel like I’ve thought about her a lot more than the others
I push her to the wall
I feel a sharp pain
My zip is being pulled again
the chlorine is discomforting
For a person who swims twice a day
I feel strange thinking it
I wish she’d bite that lip
some familiarity would be nice

She pushes me onto the bed
my favourite moment post every swim
seems like a drag now.
a very, very long event
It’s only 8:17
the sun reflects over the water outside
my thoughts sound loud over her moans
I feel a sharp pain
I didn’t think I was ready to feel

I look down at my feet
My suit is already off
I don’t want to be here – I think
I try to push her against the mirror in the room
there’s a sharp pain
my suit is blue with black shape lines
crumbled at my feet
almost like my mind feels
this moment
I look at her as she runs her unwelcome cold fingertips on my ears
I blink
and I try to stop feeling good
but my hands have a life of their own
They’re feeling the stickiness off her freshly naked body
And my body, drying off feels cool against her skin
The panic at the pit of my stomach drowns out her moans
my eyes only looking at her lips
I wish she’d just… bite them
I wish there was something that felt the same
something that broke this
I like surprises
I almost beg
surprise me, darling
there’s that sting
it’s 8:17
time is a strange thing.

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Jo Krishnakumar is a trans queer researcher interested in all things sex, sexuality, gender and how different groups/people experience these wor(l)ds. Their work is informed by their constant learning/unlearning of the privileges they have due to their social location as a dominant/oppressive caste person (Nair) while also occupying space as a (mentally) disabled trans person of colour. Find them on their unfinished webspace

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