parallel play

fold your laundry, and i’ll just watch—

or maybe clean your apartment.

i’ll stay close, just in case you slip on the wet floors.

you’ve been touching yourself more lately—

when you’re angry, or happy, or just bored.

what if i’m here instead?

you could finish in my mouth.

you like shooting film,

so i let you frame me in the shower—

photos of my body, like a truce.

you take them like they were always yours.

but please—

don’t make me hate you,

when loving you already hurts enough.