by Stacey Hamilton Klausner
Can't we just call it sex,
like the good old days.moving on my body
frantic or focused
animal and anonymous
in the back of my car
where I don't feel compelled
to take your number
but drive away fast
while your fly's still undoneCan't we just call it sex;
this is not a love song.must we wallow
in terms of making love
when a good fuck
might just take me
out of my head
and send me back
where I can remember
what I was looking for
in the first placeCan't we just call it sex
and be done with it.