Exhausting

I am too exhausting
for you to open your door
and greet me on a Friday night
with a tongue drenched in red wine.
I am too exhausting
for you to unbutton my shirt
and toss it in some corner
I will eventually be left
scrambling to find.
I am too exhausting
for you to pull down
my crumpled skirt
and the black tights you like
while I wrap my legs
around your waist
and exhale yes
into your ear,
my fingers running
through your cloud of hair
and down the smooth expanse
of your back,
our mouths waging wars
as you carry me
to your bed
and we soak
your sheets
with unbridled lust
until we are
a tired tangle
of limbs
speaking only
in rapid breaths
and eyes
that linger
and smiles
that play coy.
I am too much
for this to happen
You are simply exhausted.
I bring you down
but not to your knees.
You need someone
who lifts you up.
On her back.
With her tongue
and heart
cut out.

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