Thin girl


The afternoon

like used rubber

lost in roll

one in pleasure

the other cold and full

beneath their day clothes

thrown off like wings

she looked nude like a thinner version of herself

lost in angles and jutting hip bones

a little skinnier than his wont

but you know what they say about skinny women?

you can put them on top of your pencil and rotate

sharpening to a point and using until blunt

her smell is on his fingers and in his hair

his mouth aches from kissing her between her legs

she’s showering with the door open

the tiny bones in her spine popping

as she leans into the heat

the steam fogging up frosted windows

he inhales her and his fifth cigarette


it is this

the indistinct

stillness of afterward

sought most of all

when his body is sate and slick with her dew

nothing, not anything, matters


will ask for him again with her eyes even after

she has washed him off

it’s the contradiction of


to re-dress only to have them torn off

he traces with his little finger

a selfishness that tells the rest of the world

to go to hell

languidly replaying how

her thin body rose and fell above him


the sound of her pleasure

pressed against his neck

like vibrations from a train

speeding into station with

oiled momentum



19 thoughts on “Thin girl

  1. Yes it was a little sexual and I did that to show the weirdness of desire and how it confuses even itself, so the feeling of being a voyeur is so apt! Thank you dear Meg!

  2. the sound of her pleasure
    pressed against his neck
    like vibrations from a train
    speeding into station
    I’ve read this twice.
    I enjoy the dynamic of your telling of passion.
    Clean & dirty. Sensual with words that wooed the imagination into a play of description.
    This poem asks the reader again with its words.

  3. The image goes hand in hand with such marvelous piece of art (your word)

  4. I think you probably already know that I find the intricacies of this piece so enthralling. You capture my mind so completely with the direction to the senses. Touch smell taste….I love this!!!

  5. this made me laugh so much! I love it! No way by the way! Loathe 50 Shades, but ha ha ha yes I think I’ve had some sex-themed work of late, whatever could it mean!?! ๐Ÿ˜‰

  6. Oh my BEAUTIFUL friend I hate to think of you loathing yourself. If you were my neighbor you would not loathe yourself, we would go out and laugh and make each other feel better, that’s the worst part about isolation we cannot do that, and sometimes it would make all the difference. You are SO talented and lovely, I understanding self-loathing too well and I would not wish it upon anyone. BIG TIGHT HUG my friend. Please know, if you feel this it does not mean it is true, it’s how you feel but not how you are xo

  7. A rare sex themed poem from me – glad you liked – I do think the telling of passion is worthy and I liked how you said ‘clean and dirty’ that is great!

  8. Right? I truly think we choose based on smell more than more or less anything else. Even as we don’t know it consciously. People think of smell as ‘good/bad’ and in very obvious terms but there’s a whole undercurrent

  9. Oh good! I presume you know laughter is soooo good for the soul. I only read 50 shades to find out what on earth made him the way he is – and of course the big reveal was right at the end. It got boring very quickly ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Are you *delicate ahem* perhaps a little frustrated – in a poeming kind of way, I mean, of course

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