Poems: The Safest Sex You'll Get

My poetry isn't for you, It never was. When I lie next to, Sweat glistening on my skin, The smell of freedom and ecstasy Pervading the muggy air, I light the incense to purify Myself for the post-coital ritual. The poems that pour from my lips Remove your bitter taste. These poems aren't written for you, I know you'll leave some day. They're just pleasant reminders, Both good and bad. A replacement for notches on the bedpost; We've always rented our furniture. They're tally marks on my tattered heart, Etched, scarred, permanent. Now I just need a contingency plan, I'm running out of room.