If I Were You

Countless hours,
we entwine our.bodies.as.one.
Arms pull arms hold arms hug
our bodies closerandcloser together.
skin becomes slick and slippery til
haphazardly we race to higher precipices—
rhythmic thrusting turns chaotic—
And then,

Sweet release.

Quiet now,
there is no movement
except for slowing breath.
It is then we notice
the sweaty mess
as goose bumps form
when cool air touches our damp skin.

I lay atop you,
my fingers play lightly
in the forest on your chest.
I whisper to you
what I enjoyed—
your unrestrained manner,
how you cup my buttocks
and pull me closer.

You smile.
And ask,
“Do you ever wish you were a man?”

((PAUSE))

I answer:
“Yes.”

If for one night,
I were a man
and felt what you feel
and
if for one night
you were a woman
and felt what I feel
then one night would be enough.

As a man,
my rigid member
thrusts rapidly in-out-in-out-in-out-in-out-in-out
of your wetness
my balls would
slap/slap/slap
against you to my rhythm.

As a woman,
you would feel
the fullness of me inside of
you.
you would know
how intimate it is to be
penetrated,
and could experience a
clenchinganddrenching orgasm.

if only for one night,
I could shed my gender
and if for one night,
you could shed yours,
then we would know
what is to be the other.

As a man-once-a-woman,
I would know how to touch you
the way a woman
wants, yearns, and desires
to be touched
that slow, careful
yet sensuous touch
of fingertips grazing slowly
on soft skin
along the outline of a firm breast,
teasing near nipples
nipples that harden without ever being
touched.
Fingertips tracing circles
and lips leaving slow, gentle kisses
along a path
to a gentle mound of hairs.
Teasing fingers
brush softly against
you lips,
and my phantom caress
leaves you begging
begging for more, more, more, more,
you plead:

“Touch me!”

As a woman-once-a-man,
you would know
how to touch me
the way a man
needs, demands, and requires
to be touched.
That firm, commanding touch
that demands attention
to which my staff obliges,
you stroke deftly
up my thighs,
expertly cupping
my balls.
A forceful stroking
along my length
upanddown, upanddown, upanddown.
Then, unexpectedly
you straddle me
as with forceful gait
you drive me to my edge
‘til I scream your name.

If for one night,
we could alter reality
and shed who we are
to become the other
imagine what we would
feel.

Yet here we are:
I, a woman.
And,
You, a man.