The key will not turn,
because you are biting the back of my neck 
and I keep missing the lock.
The brass has scored the paint.
You say, Give it here,
then put your hand down my pants.
I put my forehead against the door.
It is cool and recently repainted.
I lose whatever I was about to say
concerning the neighbours.
You laugh with your teeth still in me.
The key sits crooked in the lock.
I say, Oh fuck.
You push me harder against the door.
Someone starts up the stairs.
Your hand doesn’t stop. Poem written by u/Iron_Enjambment