Dear diary,

I love him but When I’m in bed with him, I can only see, When I close my eyes.

And when I do I don’t feel his lips on mine.

I imagine hers.

Soft and beautiful The curves on her body Sharp and sweet like citrus, A glass prism hitting the light Just right.

I want her. This faceless femme In the way the horizon wants the sun.

Every night.

What is wrong with me?

He’s so kind, But when we’re intimate I close my eyes And swim through a night of want.

Aching for a rainbow I’m afraid to touch.