we made love like mexican teenagers

he said "I don't like the whole fuck-me-now vibe" and I agreed. He touched my dark skin with his milky white hands and when the two of us lay together after work inside the quiet post office atop those piles of envelopes to be sorted and delivered by us the next day we reminded me of an Oreo cookie dunked soggy in milk--- the best way to eat an Oreo and this beautiful white boy of twenty-six knew how to eat my cookie and after I'd deliver what had been waiting aggravatingly inside me out to the world in one Big One, I'd particularly love how swollen his lips would look from all that tireless work down there in my kingdom down there. And what I also loved about him was how he revealed a whole bunch of parts of me that just never would have been revealed had it not been for just having him there with me so I could talk to him different from all the hundreds of customers friends and family I'd talk to all day because sex does something to people it is like a delivery station where all the things you have been hauling around with you finally have a place to unload. And I'd been on a long trip prior to the first time he and I made love. And I'd been packed to capacity with all kinds of cargo. And after we made love I got lighter, almost like I could leave the ground shipping entirely.