Real Sex

Small words can mean big things.
We paperclipped this word
to our thoughts,
then to our speech,
then to our music,
and somehow along the way
the meaning was shortened
to the length of the word.
You told me you had sex
last weekend but newsflash-
real sex died a long time ago.
You and that girl-
you two were just playing with body parts,
nothing new, nothing real
because it's just what everybody does these days.
It's like reading a book
from the same writer
but a different story.
Books are all the same
beginning, middle, and end.
The sex that you had
was all the same from the other ones.
You swore you needed it-
you felt lonely and needed to have a connection
But whatever happened to the
"Let's hold hands" policy or
"Let's stop making out because then we'll get too horny and then want to have sex"?
That died a long time ago,
and as it died, it hugged sex
in its arms because it knew we wouldnt take care of it.
You see,
sex is a flower
You can either be the gardener
or the ones who pick out the flowers.
You choose to pick out the flower
and let it stand by your windowsill.
After two days,
it sits, waiting for love.
And then it dies.
Todaywe replaced these flowers
with artificial ones
so we don't have to care so much about them.
We won't have to water it anymore
so it'll remain the way it is
no matter if the sun is out or not.
Is that really
how sex works?
The faker it is, the better it is?
Well, I think not.
I refuse to use artificial rroses.
I'm a gardener, and I want a gardener in my life
because that is when I'll have
Real Sex.
The day my finger wears a wedding band
is when he and I will give birth to sex.
And we'll water our garden
as if a drought is soon to come.
He and I-
we won't be playing with our body parts,
we won't be inserting this to that,
and we won't be feeling just "good" or "sexy"
We'll be feeling sex.
You ask me
what the heck do I mean by that
but I pity you because no matter
how many times you've done it,
you've never felt "sex"
And everytime we'd do it-
No, it wouldn't be like reading a book.
It would be like reading poems from different poets.
Twenty, thirty different poets every other day.
Now that's Real Sex.
It will always feel new
and we'll always feel like we're creating something abstract,
like we're humming to a song we never heard of,
like we're speaking a language we never heard of,
but I pity you
because no matter how many times you've done it
you never experienced Real Sex.