Friendship in the internet age is strange
I film their porno as a favor
Each gesture is a small performance
He kisses her and I am reminded of stale bread
She deep throats him and
It’s the mundanity of cleaning dishes
The banality of sweeping the floor
Missionary style and she is a corpse under him
Her eyes remain closed
I wonder what she is thinking about
Dropping out of high school to do porn
Her Muslim family who disowned her
Leaving her homeland to live across the world with him
She is only eighteen
She is in the process of becoming
She loves him
But the feeling doesn’t translate through the lens
I want to film the way they kiss in the morning
Dreamy eyed and half asleep
I want to study the way she breaks open a pomegranate
Hands bloodied and shining
The way she feeds him with stained fingers
I want to show the world the way she floats in the ocean
Somber and contemplative as he watches her from the shoreline
But the porn industry does not want subtle intimacy
All the small moments
That compose the fullness of a love story
They want a fast and dirty narrative
Bodies as machines in motion
No feeling, just animal intensity
So, my friends give the audience what they’ve paid for
He cums on her face
She doesn’t orgasm
But screams like she is supposed to
A pinched noise
A thrust of air
A climax resembling a small death
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