DIGITAL INTIMACY DOESNT SCORE FOR ME

I need to be addressed by my name,
Cry on a shoulder about my day,
Be undressed in a close personal way,
Seduced while holding hands,
Locking lips, and touching tongues,
Into a charming but disarming
Sapiosexual maze.

This combination rouses me
To a heightened state of “Stimulate,”
Where I can then be Emotionally caressed,
Set apart from scripted bots
And the rest of all The Rest,
The Only One, the “Always One” and The “Now-Forever One,”
Until I’m so high I crescendo
Into “What Satisfies Me Best.”

I need it all, I must confess,
Before jumping immediately
At the First Blush of the First Try
On the very first night,
To surprisingly-skillfully-virtually
Relieve and Drowse my “partner”
Into a solid, heavy sleep,
Assisting HIM achieve
A Most Basic Human Need,
While ignoring MINE and ME.

This constant raising and dashing of Longing
Is what ended the prolonging
Of the delusion of “You & Me,”
For we were NEVER a “We.”

Instead, this is the end
Of a confusing and illusory,
Physical-not-physical,
Antiseptic absence of
Sweat, friction, and dirty sheets,
Sullied by the delicious treats
Of a freshly-released
Gorgeously fluidic, blatantly Unhermetic mess of
Intertwined and inner-aligned Two-ness.

I DID promise I’d confess,
So here’s the skinny scoop
I’ll share with you:
What I find I miss the most
Of my endless list of MOSTS
Is the silly, post, inter, and coarse
Pillow talk and pillow squawk
Which reeks of actual tenderness.

These are the almost-unbearably sexy parts
I’m not too alone to forget
About passion previously shared
With past husbands, lovers, and
Prior significant (and not-so-significant) others.

So I’m well-aware
And I well-know
The number of my company
Will always and constantly change,
But my basic need for Skintimacy
Will always stay the same.

PS. Please forgive me,
I don’t know why
I’m having such
A difficult time
Processing my Parting
With the “I must have imagined it all”
Phantasm who stole almost ALL
As well as Piece of Mind.