Haunted by Habit

please forgive me for withholding out of resentment
my whole hearted response.
now I know, scars come in pairs.
lick your wounds…
here is to your very worst fear:
i let him fuck me--both of us half-starved--in the bed you call "ours."

madly rushing over me like prey and prayer
moments connecting like iron fillings on a magnet
driving me wolf bitch wild
going in for the kill, and yet trapped beneath the muscular ache
of a man
gnawed by his own cannibalistic need to be touched.

unsure of my name but grabbing for a reckless acquaintance with my body
held down by his grip, I wondered: Is this how lust first came about in that long deserted garden?
is this how love and sin overlapped?
Adam's rib making Eve's breath lurch…
until at last, our shipwrecked bodies--haunted by habit,
turned without regret towards one another,
only to confirm ourselves.