The Po-To-Weet Blues

heya. i wanted to tell u about that time when u were behind me and i was on my stomach and it felt sooooo gooood that i was out of breath...and then i moved a little and a mattress spring pressed against my chest and for a few seconds it felt like i couldn't breathe and u were saying, come, baby, come cuz i had just announced how close i was and suddenly i was unstuck in time like billy pilgrim, and i was back in belgium in my fucked up little room with the water damaged walls covered in green and brown mushrooms and i'd just said no for the final time and was now silently crying, which in turn made him cry. his fat, hot tears fell on my neck and got mixed up with mine. please dont cry, he said, which made me cry harder and he pressed his large hand on my face so he wouldnt have to see and i couldn't breathe or speak and i couldn't believe this was happening, it was like a movie or a book or a bad dream, and as i tried but failed to pull his hand off my face he started saying, come, i want u to come, over and over, and at first i didn't understand, it was so far-fetched i wondered if it was some kinda fucked-up joke, since he knew that i knew what was happening--i mean, there i was, not wet in the least and wincing in pain everytime he pushed in and for weeks i'd be covered in purple and green bruises down there and he wanted me to have an orgasm? come, come, i wanna make u come, he said, and pressed his hand down harder on my face and it was at that moment that i told myself i was going to give up on breathing, and the 40 watt bulb in my brain dimmed and the room started to recede and a looooong hallway appeared before me, at the end of which there wasn't a bright white light, but a hazy red never-never land, like the V.I.P. room of a club and as i squinted my eyes i saw my own face down there, floating in the mist and calling out to me for help...

i can't help u, i said to myself, and the sadness of my failure filled the air and soaked my face like spring rain and all i wanted was for it to be over, whatever that would mean, and when i opened my eyes instead of the fleshy orange of his palm i saw my own eyes looking back at me--it seemed i had crossed the shadowy distance in the hallway and was standing face to face with myself, staring, sad-eyed as i said goodbye to the girl i would never be again.