Letting my Lover Insert my Tampon by Monalisa Maione

You have not left a reachable
surface on my body untouched, so why not?

I’m tired of the daily, hourly, monthly self-plunge
you, wearing your sympathy.

In the shower you run a hand
inside my thigh, print red on the wall.

I spread wide as vine rows, you hold me open
feel your laughing breath on my neck, you’re game.

You know my body from the inside out and
you stop it up like a pro.

You’ve held me like this a thousand times
made me come so hard I couldn’t walk to the car.

Fucked me right through my heaviest days
warmed me in your arms on sheets

stained dark with my bold Cabernet.
Track me down the hallway

take me right there up against the wall
spread me wide, tug at the string with your teeth

open me, your petite bottle of Beaujolais
don’t even let me breathe to make

the space you need to fill me up again.

Monalisa Maione is a California-based, Pushcart Prize nominated feminist poet and visual artist with degrees in scientific and art photography from Rochester Institute of Technology. She has been a featured poet in Los Angeles, New York City, San Francisco and Paris, France, where she also lives.