Our first time in a gay club.
There was neon everywhere,
wet bodies,
cheap material.
It smelled like fun was being had.
It’s said that at gay clubs
you’re able to have sex
almost anywhere.
I tested limits, pushed
a shadowy figure against
chipping paint, slid
my hand underneath
her shirt. It was a bit difficult
with all the sweat. I felt
her breathing catch rhythm
in sync with mine. Our hands
explored in unison, our tongues
fought for spaces in
each other’s mouths. Stumbling
bodies trailed color zipping past.
I didn’t know her
name, she didn’t know
mine. Bodies swayed
in harmonious familiarity.
She caressed my elbow with
the tips of her fingers, slowly
pushing inward urging
southern travel. I knew
what she craved, her needs
weren’t why I was here.
I would’ve loved to get lost
in her body
in this moment,
in this place,
to knock something else
off of my bucket list.
I wanted to feel how the movies looked.
I felt sorry her body was contorted
into my twisted fantasy
of fun. Not as sorry as she was
mad at not getting fucked
in the hallway. She caught on to me
leading her nowhere, she sped away
leaving purple and blue streaks behind. Alone,
body pressed against the warm,
sweaty wall waiting to fall back
in myself.
A bundle of yellow floated my way,
snapped me back into reality. It was
my roommate. She screamed
how she was looking for me,
how I was never allowed to leave
her again, how she doesn’t even like girls
and she keeps getting hit on. She’s
the first girl I ever referred to as spaghetti,
straight until she’s hot and wet.
Going to the club was her idea, her attempt
to trick me into seducing her so she
could cave and blame me in the morning.
Women are complicated.
To clear the air, I did it anyway,
let her believe her plan worked.
Little did she know her body
was my dumping ground for
pity and frustration. Using each other
was in the fine print
of our lease agreement that
neither of us bothered to read.
Treasure is from Petersburg, VA by way of Accomac County. She has been in love with poetry since the 5th grade when she learned it does not always have to rhyme. After studying Literary Arts in high school she has mostly used writing as her escape from the harshness of adult life. Outside of writing, she finds comfort in the arms of her loving wife and rambunctious Australian Cattle dog.