i never dreamt of touching you but there you were naked.
eyes wandering, traveling, imagining seeing me too.
your mouth hanging open, your tongue thirsty and dry.
your fingers just itching to inch toward me.
and who was I to turn you down?
who was I to leave you blue and out in the cold?
who was I to tell you your desires were one sided,
and that I never wanted this until you gave it to me.
it would break me to see you break.
to see your expectations shattered.
to see you climb back into your torn clothes and become human again.
so I stuffed my face full of you,
even lied and said I enjoyed it.
lied and just kept eating.
so you would not stop loving me.
or in hopes that you would finally see yourself as beautiful.
you got your stomach's fill and you got your satisfaction.
but you insisted I stay up in the night to pet your stupid ego.
and who was I turn you down?
my ego too needed petting,
I wanted to feel wanted.
even if I had to hold my eyes closed the entire time
at least I went on the ride.
Jam Bridgett (they/she) is a queer student, visual artist and writer of Afro-Jamaican descent in Toronto. They are interested in diaspora, gender, race, sexuality and human connection to the Earth. Their work can be found in Ascend Magazine, Tongue Tied Magazine and Rose Quartz Magazine.