Brynn Martin


The first time I unfurl into the shower with a man
is also the first night I spend tied to a bed,

blindfolded. I cum again and again and again
until my legs kink together, trap his hand

so I can catch my breath. He is the first man
to consider my pleasure his pleasure,

to moan how he wants to be my best sex
and mean it, to pepper hickeys 

across my neck, stomach, inner thighs.
I am not a small woman,

my body a world atlas, thick with pages -
these purpling marks X my expanse 

like destinations on a sexual itinerary.
I make it a habit not to place myself near

thin people, paranoid my landscape
will look wider next to their territory.  

And yet, sleeping over for the first time
in the bed of a man with dainty wrists, 

who can fold like a roadmap,
I curl against his mountain range spine.

I don’t worry how it looks.

back to contents