She needs one medium
and a soft. He’s a soft.
Sometimes, when reading,
he props himself up with hers,
then forgets to return them,
or mistakenly puts the wrong
soft one back, admittedly
being less “sensitive.” “Insensitive,”
she says. The look that gets
that stare, returned with a sneer,
met with a growl, shove shoved
back. Back-turning, name-calling,
poke not taken as a joke, bite
badly disguised as nip. Holding,
holding back. Three hard moans
from her. Three mediums and a soft
from him.