my ex-boyfriend is a dick joke

by Diamond Forde

 

and i want to tell you that now he makes love. each low moan eroding a gravelly note in his throat. but he used to fuck. in pools and cars and backyards dotted with icy stars until the neighbors made spectacles of our bodies. now he’s all wifed with generic white girl names like mary, beth, and jane, and they don’t like it when you yank their hips, make milk duds of their nipples. did they moan like i did when he said he couldn’t split their clit because his nose too sensitive. dirty girl. i make shame fit good. i wear it skin/tight. i admit that i was wild for him, so i would finally be worth something. dirty girl, i like to slide my cock in your big black pussy. told me more than once while i tried to smash his lily lips to silence. the joke is he doesn’t have a cock these days. he makes love. but i was dirty girl. i was generic black girl name. i was galaxy porn star. i was punchline. every ounce of me—i used to dye my hair cerulean for lust. used to pretend the dark don’t cut out only one of us.