On our first date,
when I showed him my chastity necklace,
you asked me,
“Why would anyone ever choose to be chaste.”
My answer is as follows,
In the months leading up to my wedding,
there will be much debate about honey moons in Fiji,
or the Virgin Islands.
but we will settle for the fortress of our own home.
And while most couples need one night to consummate their love,
I ask that you do not try and contact me for at least
seven days.
Here’s why…
On my wedding night,
If he does not sink into my quick sand lips,
or Hawaiian sunsmile.
It will be my desert hips
and Amazon thighs to do him.
Because there is no island on this planet that you can get more lost than than my body,
I give three days to realize this fact.
Three days to treat our bed like an episode of Lost,
fully-aware
that at every turn there is a sexual beast waiting to devour him.
I will watch him morph into an explorer before my eyes
with the hands of an archeologist,
he will treat my body like an ancient temple
because he know at the site of it,
that nothing was more carefully constructed.
His mere breath on my ear will curve my neck,
arch my back,
curls my toes
and when I beg his name
He will tell me to be patient.
run his hands down my torso
and remind me
every artist knows their canvass long before they wet their instrument.
Consequently,
he will have worshiped the doors of my temple years before he opens them
For his patience
My praying legs will reward his saintly fingertips open prayers
He will be the first to ever tell me that my natural juices smell like wine
meaning he
is God ordained to get drunk off my essence.
I will beg him not to drink responsibly on this night
where I’m the designated driver and I vow to make him my stick shift until his engine stutters
and explodes.
By day 4,
He will have entered me.
Less like a frantic moth to a flame,
more like a thread to a needle
because when I wet the tip
I find nothing but deliberance in his hard on.
He cums slowly.
Makes a moan like a breeze slipping through heaven’s orchids.
No one can convince me they’d know how to please my body better than my soul mate,
Until I proclaim that the average climax is far too low for my taste,
until he’s bangin’ my body up against the pearly gates because
sometimes you just want it rough
Poetry aside
Until our sweat drips Salvador Dali into clouds and it’s raining clocks,
7day can easily melt into seven months.
In short,
I am saving myself,
because I am well worth the wait.
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