We lay under red velvet and whisper about the tall boy with dark hair. He was wild and eager under the willow tree, gasping he loved you when he pulled your hand down along his thigh. You show me the cherry colored kisses on your skin and tell me he was rough and beautiful and different.
I ask if he was better. You say no.
You say we are soft and selfless. When we touch, our lips are thoughtful, and our tongues twist without time. But he is tortured and elegant in his misery, eternally hungry and waiting, a beast that blows lonely, desperate breaths until he is soothed and still again.
You press your mouth to mine then whisper: he is fire, and I am water, and we are both meant to flow within the violet chambers of your heart.
For a long time, I’ve wanted to write about what it means to me to be bisexual, but I could never conjure a piece that I felt truly captured the essence of male and female energies and how they differ in my experience.
Not just sexually, but emotionally. Women have a natural intimacy with one another and they openly share their vulnerabilities (most of the time), but, men are often left to struggle with their emotions alone. I wanted to draw that out while pulling in romantic elements to create the bisexual theme in more than one way. Thanks for reading my sweet, seductive supporters who let me be me. You are eternally loved.
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