First Served by Simon Turner
For optimised mobile reading, view the poem in PDF
an erotic fiction in
the first-person plural.
We’re cuddling
for warmth after
his car breaks
down on the way
out. With the
snow, close
enough to feel
each other’s heartbeats. Hear each
other’s breaths. So it’s
basically
impossible for him not
to get hard. But I won’t
let him get
embarrassed by his
share in the
pleasure, — try to be
there, when he’s feeling
most tender,
and make him
live for
that feeling.
I want his cock in the crease of my hip. I want to wrap my leg
around his. I do it. Blissful heat through cotton against jean.
We’ve been fondling
the edges of our
frames, giggling
and cooing to each other.
Our lips are inches
apart
and we can feel
the other’s breath. And we’re egging
each other
on. (Prompting, teasing, testing
to see who would break first and lean
in for
the kiss.
It’d be an embrace
in stasis, but
with the friction still
building between
our thighs,
we can’t help it, we’re moaning. And every inch of the other’s skin is
utter fascination to us, so we’re compelled
to linger over every cell; — caress each
solitary hair.) But honey, it’ll be okay,
because we have
the rest of our lives
to learn
the best ways
to enjoy
each other. And whoever
goes first, we’ll be there
to throw the other
the best death imaginable,
under the
circumstances. We just have to keep hoping the kiss
will come first.
Author photo by Xu Media Productions
Simon Turner’s poetry has been published by Plenitude Magazine, Train: a poetry journal, and bird, buried press, and is forthcoming in The Fiddlehead. They participated in Arc Poetry Magazine’s 2020/21 poet-in-residence mentorship program, and received first prize for Carleton University’s 2019 George Johnston Poetry Awards. Simon lives in Ottawa, masquerading as a PhD student, and wrote four plays staged in Peterborough/Nogojiwanong either at or in collaboration with The Theatre On King.