Dr Sex by Violet Malice
She never knew whether
What she was doing
Was any good because
He never gave any
Indication either way
He was always silent
As silent as a statistic
In a deep book
That’s never been opened
A silence that engulfed her
She didn’t know
What on earth to do
So she just lowered her mouth
Like a horse drinking
And drained his tank
Gravel settling in her belly
One Sunday
After they’d had words
He said “Oh yes, that’s good
Oh yes, keep doing that!”
But it felt insincere
Like he was poking fun out of her
Whilst poking through her knickers
They’d started going to a sex therapist
And he’d said that maybe, possibly
She shouldn’t prance around
In lingerie all the time
Because it can be quite intimidating
She said she’d thought it was alluring
She’d asked whether they were a match
Like in a good game of chess
And the sexpert had said
That there is no such thing
That most couples are not perfect
That compromise is key
That the only happy endings
Come with wet wipes and shame
She told him that when they got married
He’d said “you'll do” as a joke
Instead of “I do” in front of everyone
And that she'd never forgiven him
That every time the sink got blocked
It was the most excitement she’d felt
During their entire relationship
The sex doctor and the polo neck
Rubbed their hands together
And looked enormously at the clock.
