sexuality
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warm, supple flowers
whether plucked or pressed.
no bud so tender, resilient
as breasts.
though scoundrels paw
and lovers may bruise;
there is nothing
so wonderfully unbreakable
Nous tombons parfois amoureux de la bonne personne
De la parfaite, de l'immaculée ou de la plus mauvaise poltronne
I’m angry with you. I’m sorry I am, I don’t want to be, but I am. You make me sad and you hurt me. My heart aches all the time. Why did you fall in love with me if you can’t love me?
It’s not hard when it’s not present
When we’re working together and we have to hide
When you’re 1,500 miles away
It’s not hard when we don’t think about it
I refuse to be defined by my sexuality, It’s my state of mind, refined by my mental capacity, I don’t have a label, I’m not a tin of beans, love is love, and we’re all able, to love by any means.
I was very very very broken
Nothing but sharp objects and dark places; gone boy
The fog was so thick around me
All i could see was one shining light
Sometimes i like to get high on beaches at night time
I like to inhale the chemicals
And exhale my fears
I like the feeling of the sand
Cool and soft and silky
it’s easy to be lonely
in the lights of this city
wondering why you can never look me in the eyes
when you tell me that im pretty
i see you in fucking santa clarita.
fucking that bitch
that will never fucking love you
that will never treat you like me-
that will never protect you,
you have a million suitors
anyone who meets you
becomes entranced by your beauty
the better men try to look a little deeper
i want to write about happy things
so i find myself thinking of your lips
i find myself hoping that tonight
i’ll finally get to kiss you-
at least in my dreams
if we want to talk about being hard to love
that definition begins with me
anxiety
insecurity
paranoia
chewing me up, throwing me out
Love is all in vain
The vulnerability
Romanticized
There is nothing romantic about this pain
There is nothing i love about hurting
For Your Pleasure
There was a study done at the University of Nicosia
stating that I,
a woman-loving,
pussy-eating,
big-ole-queer
They didn’t tell you that cherry cola was wrong,
but they let you know it was.
They said that only the sick minded drank it,
declared from a broken and cracked pulpit
“There is no such thing as safe sex, since no one can create a condom for the soul.” -Jayce O’Neal
To think that we are here,
Connected pelvis to pelvis
By tubes and fluids
Sometimes I’m a sexually repressed nun who fell for someone outside the faith,
A guy carrying multiple, heavy bags of groceries for someone who won’t return the favor,
My gender is a writhing thing in the corner
I poke it with a stick every so often to see how it will move.
My sex is a warm pink alien I cup in my hand
lesbians are not real, peeping tom.
the ones that u want anyway.
dreamland lesbians:
straight girls in sheep’s clothing
that succumb to men’s advances
eventually.
only existing when u
if i was her boyfriend
i’d invite her to stay
the night at my house
if she likes, she would say
“yes!”, we’d grab snacks
i would nervously rest
my head on her shoulder
o why did I wear a dress?
There is no end in site.
Stereotypes exist because of..:
Muslims who blow things up,
Christians who wrongfully judge,
Day one
Religious
Dependent
Straight.
Youngest
Church is ok, would rather be somewhere else
“Baby’d” if you may
Day one
Religious
Dependent
Straight.
Youngest
Church is ok, would rather be somewhere else
“Baby’d” if you may
There are times I wish it would always be the middle of the night.
Everything is calm, still and you can hear everything beyond your door if you listen well.
Who are we really when we are shut out of the world.
Not even allowed a bathroom break.
Why are we set aside and over looked.
Jobs, college acceptances, name changes.
Open your bible, pray for forgiveness, tell him your sins, the lord is your witness.
We are all children of God with free will; we are family, you know.
Then why in the definition of religion is the word control?
As children we are told
Right and wrong are black and white
And the hard line between them is time and place
That green means good and red means
Stop
I'm a grown-up now.
And I do grown-up things.
Like pay my taxes, cry at night,
And wear engagement rings.
And I'm a grown-up now.
So I only watch the news,
I drown unfamiliar feelings,
We escaped our mundane lives and embraced the night.
Where the sky is dyed in purples and blues and black
Stars prick the sky in their countless light
We escaped our mundane lives and embraced the night.
Where the sky is dyed in purples and blues and black
Stars prick the sky in their countless light
Here are my words for a lover true
That one day you’ll hear and accept my tune
For I have eyes only for you
My lover yet to come.
What light lives inside you?
A message, like a neck I might graze,
Harder than cider to the tip of my tongue,
Skin terracotta, and glance just as glazed,
What’s in an attraction?
Sure the structure of your face
Can be aesthetically pleasing
But that doesn’t make me want to fuck you
You say they’re confused
They don't know what they want
They don't understand
And in order to put the world in order
The word "fight" never seemed to apply
I see its far more than what meets the eye
A promise made in youth that must live when youth dies
And I fight. Oh, its a front and a facade - yes, I fight!
Today I painted my nails black
so next time I
dig them into your warm
cold, indifferent back
you might feel my anger
under your skin
and maybe my kiss might
Part one: Love. How can it be that one word holds so much power, so much emotion, so much responsibility?
When I was a kid,
I loved to write.
I wrote the stars into the sky,
the smile on my mother’s face.
I wrote the words that my soul whispered
water wraps around my legs
sticky with salt
and bone numbing wisdom
my fingertips stroke murky clouds
billowing across
the sea’s glass
My chest has the compiled list of the things I want most A detailed description of their face, to the color of their eyesTo the sparkle in their teethI’ve fallen for the way she looks at me to the way he disagreed with me But according to him, my
Dear Best Friend
When we laugh together until we're snorting and wheezing
Looking crazy to anyone who glances at us
Or when you smile at me without saying anything
Those are the times when I want to say
Binary.
Ones and zeros.
Female and male.
Homosexual and heterosexual.
Black and white.
Right and wrong.
Your world is small when you cut out infinity.
Perfect
Perfect is a disease
That everyone is trying to achieve
No one is safe
And no one can hide from perfect
And it’s dreadful ways
dear heart of mine,
why can’t you decide
who you do and do not like
why did it take you so long
to realize
Sleep around player.
Don’t be a pussy.
Grab her by the pussy.
My legs are shut,
Crossed,
And locked with my chastity belt.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Wish you knew how bad it hurts to keep something like this from you.
Wish you felt how I felt, the way my heart drops whenever you make a negative comment about someone just because of who they love.
Why am I scared of being me
You'll never know what it's like to be
Someone that only
Sees hatred and bigotry
Towards a person like me
A person of my sexuality
Murdered on the street
Sweet fruit,
Forbidden fruit,
I shall ignore god's warning,
For to taste ambrosia I shall sin ten-thousand times more.
I cannot resist the serpent,
Nor do I think I would so desire.
I first checked you out in school.
I don’t know what caught my eye
But it doesn’t matter because I was too shy
And let you pass by for the fear you were “too intellectual.”
Everyday girls stand on the scales, and cry.
They look in the mirror and cry.
They look at themselves, see themselves as fat
when they are fading away to skin and bone.
my brain smokes and i ride the wind
or drift by the galaxy past oblivion
the old man sits there
in a way hes always been
today i think
All around are people, too
Busy to
Care about anything except the moment they are in, too
Distracted to notice that they are not the only ones that
Exist. They do not have the time to see the world
six letters.
one word.
Faggot.
two syllables that make any queer kid in-or-out of the closet feel nothing less than
unwanted
unloved
This morning I woke up and it was controversial.
My skin glowed caramel under the sun and it was controversial.
Spoken Intro:
“All of a sudden, it’s like you’ve become aware of your own existence, how unwhole you are.
And you’re constantly being reborn...
Again...
And again...
And again...
And again.
The beauty of those oppressed by those with money.
You often wonder if they think you're funny.
If being poor and having to rely on the next paycheck is a reason to be scorned.
“We love you no matter what.”“I’ll never support gay marriage.”“We’re always so proud of you.”“That lifestyle is a crime against God.”“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters”... Contradiction.
Red, White, and Blue. Such beautiful colors that wave high above,
Lately though all I see is Black, White, and Brown.
Funny how three colors can unite us, funny how they divide us.
That great flag flys high above us, it says freedom for all
Freedom for all has some terms and conditions though
Must be of a light or fair skin tone
Must be of a christian denomination
Must be a man
Daddy I’m a whore
You knew the first boy I kissed
He didn’t know me
Daddy I’m a whore
The second boy I kissed did it as a joke
Daddy I’m a whore
You knew the first boy I kissed
He didn’t know me
Daddy I’m a whore
The second boy I kissed did it as a joke
They say the young have a flame within them.
But I think they need that flame to keep themselves warm,
Stretching their cold, old hands out to my fire to stop the numbness.
Little do they know,
The way she walks transmogrifies
My brain into soft clouds and kites
When below is where reality lies
Sweetly, strongly, in those silt brown eyes
Around those black river rocks, madsmoothed
Swimming in a sea of skin
I only felt her warm hand
fingers laced through mine
like sutures binding a wound
allowing it to heal.
Pride
The highest misconception is fluorescent colors are all that surrounds me daily
I carry my “gayness” around like it’s a trophy
Seventeen years of life experience and I'm still not qualified for the job, because everyone thinks I'm either too young or too dumb. Pressured by society to look thin and tan, but we can hardly face each other man to man.
Odd as it seems, I don’t remember where I was.
I just remember my sister wanting to cuss
I need a place
A safe place
A silent place
A peaceful place
A building where I can march up to a urinal and piss like nobody's watching
Since when has speech become akin to sex?
All accountability falls out, lifeless, writhing
On the floor in a snake’s pattern.
You're sitting on my desk Laughing and joking and talking with those who stand beside the teacher And I would rather be anywhere else Because you are too close, too near, too much for me to handle
It has been a long tiresome day .
But for some reason, I don’t want to go home .
Oh, I know why I don’t want to go home yet.
I need to put a few in me first.
One is torn from the inside out as the death of life and the consequence of the original sin of \mankind manifests its estrogenic massacre;/
The red of the fruit \of the knowledge of good and evil pollutes /white linen so neatly;
If only He made me a beautiful nymph,
Though I do not mean to question my existence,
But I do.
You know who I love,
What and who I want to love,
As who I am for that lover,
at the end of it all you told me i wasnt gay enough
like the nights i dedicated to you weren't real enough?
all the times i swooned for you, all the times i grew for you
it just took time for me to adjust
Me,
Craving the flesh
Of sunset lavender
Tasting
Bruises from
Drunken collisions
Willow wheat hair
Anxiety and me
Go hand in hand with my sexuality and me
I am not straight
And I am not gay
I am somewhere in the in-between
Sexuality is a complex concept.
If I got specific about my sexual and romantic orientation,
The most accurate way to describe my preferences would be:
1000 years from now
when they find my delicate
laced up corpse—
my femur will whisper
Anthropologists will murmur
—Here
is the
Love is love, but we frown upon certain kinds.
I remember when I was scared to let the world knowthe kind of love that I like.
Hiding a relationship...Four years to be exact.
Hurting myself and my partner.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
I wish I had as much privilege™ as you.
I wish I could get away with being
As generic,
As white,
As male,
And as ignorant and original™
"Wow, that's pretty brave.
Chancing on your mom walking in
On you shoving a dildo
Into your girlfriend."
The alarm screaming, burning eyes
After not once allowing my brain to dip into sleep
we've been told
our whole lives
who we are
our identity
carved into our skin
and hidden underneath our dresses
my sister is blonde
and she is one of the smartest people I know
my friend is muslim
and she has the kindest soul
I'm on the transgender spectrum
I am not confused
don’t it feel good?
being infatuated by just one individual
tell me it don’t perceive affection because i highly oppose
espying such piece of art
This poem is not about her small heart and how it beat against my chest,
A steady stuttering rhythm,
Th-thump th-thump th-thump.
This poem is not about her small hands and how they cradled my chest,
I’m a femme fatalemy father taught me wellLike Mata Hari my charms arefor my victims to dispelLike the mistress Laura Bellthe Queen of London Whoredomone day I may find the Lord but
The Words of a Faggot
Imagine a boy
Now imagine him tall and stocky
Just a little bit cocky
Think of him in a letterman jacket
There’s something about Caps and Gowns,
And burning from Chlamydia
That could make last will out of diploma
Memories of the prom night church girl
Recently I found out that a bible study made up of a few girls from my school discussed at one of their meetings how I am a hypocrite, because I say I am a christian, I say I believe in the words of the bible, but I also, quite loudly, o
There's a sickness in society
It's called sexuality
Where everyone wants to reach out and touch
And choose what they want
Who they want
What label they want
And with every touch it seems to spead
Please don't touch me
For I'm afraid
Of all the things you'll somehow see
And the fact that I'll be made
The truth is simple
And it goes as thus
There is no kind touch that may lull
the world i live in is so ignorant . we base our choices off how others will react .
I am more than this confusion
That seems to settle on me
Caused by trying to find my place
Inthis ever misunderstood community
you preach and preach
trying to end this hate
The longest journey
Is finding joy.
And it's hard to find
In one certain boy.
To use a cliche,
He's been through hell,
And things aren't going
To turn out well.
Everything is a trigger,
As young people, we are told
"Be yourself; noone can do it for you."
That is awesome.
Then we grow older
And ourselves are not what anyone expected.
That is awesome.
Someone is watching me
Raw skin, black and blue.
Bitter screams manipulate
Frantic shadows smear me
Bare arms ache
Gardens storm behind
Red roses sweat
Lust and death
Fiametta
Under the layers of our years,
Beneath that wizened crust,
sleeps the ageless spirit that once set fire to our eyes.
There's too much discrimination, too many uncaring hearts,
Some people only laugh when others are torn apart.
Whether its racism or sexuality, no one seems to care,
My soul is trapped inside a barbed wire box
and I cannot breathe
The skulls in the closet of the back of my mind sneering
Authentic versions caught on the slip of the tongue,
And as I hum broken syllables caught in a broken lung,I come off as an oddity within the realm of Normalcy,Because my struggles to be them, they can never see:
Do not try to invade my thoughts;
my cross is too heavy to bear...
Just listen when I need to express them,
& I will make you fully aware!
Ill let you into my life, and all to me that is real;
I will open up my heart and tell you how I...
So you found out
Well, how do you feel?
Me?
I feel vulnerable
Anxious
Confused
Judged
Hurt
Angry
Destroyed
This was a side of me that you weren't ready for
I am controlled by this Bryiana,
What story has my face have told?
Her very presence sends a chill of electricity down my spine
When you see me
you think you know me
from what I present myself to be
or what I think you would like to see
of me of who I "want to be"
with hashtags and filters and make ups and cover
odd how i think ofYou in the spice aisleof the grocer near my homewhich sits empty,waiting forYour bodyto fill it with the smell of rosemary andsmoke. if only i had time
What would I call myself?
Judgemental?
Selfish?
Cruel?
I don't like to believe that, but unfortunately, I can be, and I have been.
Kind.
Loving.
Caring.
I am.
Loved, that is.
They don't always say it,
They mayn't always show it,
And I mightn't always feel it,
But it's there.
He's there.
Let me just start
With some words from my heart
OK
Here we go.
How can I
Be fixed,
When all I see around me
Makes me feel
Like I'm less?
"Anormal", "Wrong", "Needs To Be Fixed", "Queer!"
That's but a small bit of the everyday soundtack that I hear.
"No, I don't want a Kiss.", "I'm not broken.", "Please don't touch me there!"
Hairy Armpits
“Just wax, or shave, or pluck that hair.”
Don’t you see I really don’t care?
“Oh my god that’s so gross, ew!”
They don’t bother me, why does it bother you?
What are you?
Why cant you make up your mind?
Just pick one?
Why do i have to decide
Cant i just enjoy this time
we are taught that happines is in the
future and so we must suffer in the now
A smile,
A laugh.
Calculative, precise.
"What a beautiful young Woman
you are,
ready to please
the perfect Man
that is required for a
Healthy
Happy
Normal
life."
Your morning breath blew beautifully
A familiar funk stuck on the windowsill
I’d steal this stench and drench my windowpanes repetitiously
theres this thing out there called honesty
and i tried to do it once with this kid who turned out to be just another flea
seriously fuck rhyming im very angry about this
I am not broken
Because I need things to be just right,
Because I worry about the little things,
Because my fears are unrealistic.
I am not broken, you just don’t understand.
I am not broken
When I used to look in the mirror, I would see
A girl who struggled, but yet was sometimes pretty.
I struggled with my relationship with my family.
Although they clothed, fed, housed, and spoiled me,
Round 1:
You ask your parents how they feel about gay people
"trash" "freaks" "sinners"
I envy those that shine in the light,
Those who aren't afraid to fight
for who they are.
For every time I think it's time,
For every time I say that this moment, this one is surely mine,
To question my sexuality
To question everything that I once knew
That I was remotely sure about
That's hard
For Her though
thats has to be the easiest choice I
could make
To question my sexuality
To question everything that I once knew
That I was remotely sure about
That's hard
For Her though
thats has to be the easiest choice I
could make
I Exist
Though you may try to find some sort of bubble to put me in
To maybe keep my unnaturalness from trying to infect you
To maybe make yourself feel better when you can "see past it"
Why is love such a crime?
Why must people aim hatred towards love?
When a man holds another's hand they look away in disgust
I thought for sure this time
My midnight bedroom black as the sin I
Could have committed with him
Was lit up enough from the furnace of our bodies
I could see his eyes wanting me.
Laying down on this pillow, staring at the wall
Thinking about how often pleasure has made me fall.
Like my first sexual boyfriend, he was a con
Cause I told him I didn't want sex and he STILL got some.
Things my parents said when I was in kindergarten:
“Just be yourself and you’ll make friends.”
Straight
What is ‘lesbian’?
Not me, I swear
I’m ‘normal’
Curious
My best friend
Likes girls, I guess
It’s not that odd
When a girl loses her virginity,
Why do we act like she’s lost her dignity?
The very fact that we say she’s lost something seems to suggest
That by having sex her value is somehow less
Her wonderful innocence faded away.
Her clothing, it fell away too.
Her needs, her desires are catching on fire,
And soon she will melt into you.
You think you deserve this.
You think she's a fool.
Beautiful, strung up in the center
of the room, leather caressing his wrists
pulled tight like the blindfold
pressed against his eyes. The centerpiece
of a mouthwatering feast.
Suspended,
"Between man and a woman"
is what my parents always said
"is what your marriage must be"
or, to us, you're dead
was the fine print
hidden beneath their Bible's words
The idea of sex
In the air everywhere
Billboards and signs and t.v. too
Are all too much and make me puke
“Sex sells” someone says,
But don’t they know
It’s dangerous?
Sex blurs the line
It seems as if theres no reputable or therapeutical cure to all this stress I'm misplacing
I’m tired
Tired of being told women are placed upon a Pedestal.
When the reality if we are upset we are told that we are being Menstrual
We do not see eye to eye, missing each other due to Fluctuation of Time.
When I lean into your neck
and a sigh escapes my mouth,
I am trying to tell you how to
touch me.
Choice is a conscious decisions
We choose what we wear
And what we say
And what we do
But Love is not a choice
Love is a feeling
Mysterious and dangerous
Silently screaming
If I could change one thing
It would be so that the world could stop hating.
It would be so that the color of my skin,
The religion that I practice,
The people whom I choose to love,
I am not normal
(Both? They ask)
I try to scrub the abnormal away
(Get rid of anything that likes girls)
I brush until my gums bleed, choking on mint and tears
(Leave behind the heathen desires)
What is bi-sexuality?
How does it taste?
Is it like ice cream?
That I prefer both flavors of chocolate and vanilla?!!!
The soft sexy curves of a woman
The rock hard muscles of a man
i feel like an alien sometimesout of this worldbecause i'm not always surethat i like the idea of
i’ve always said i’ll never bear a son or daughter,
or any being in between,
or nothing of the combination;
but i wonder if that’s the key
to replenish the life in me,
to grow my flower;
Who Am I?
A question asked on every application ever written
Asked in every interview ever given
But I still don’t know the answer
Who Am I?
I know where I’m from
I know who my family is
A genuine lust of morning'sVoiceThere I slumber, and ponderAbout the tresspassers of the dayAnd the smell of the roses fill theCream cooled air of my mindWhile my arrival is very slow and timed
Confusion.
Confusion between my legs
that goes against what God says
Feeling wrong but feels so right,
It sometimes disturbs my dreams at night
That tingling sensation, I feel it in my core
Dear my love, whose name is unknown
I’ve encrypted my unspoken words onto this heart of stone
Each waking hour, each restless night, every passing moment all a paradigm
I developed a smoker’s cough in the last month or so
I try to make it cute by smiling a little apologetically
You're the perfect balance between
sexy and sweet,
cruel and kind.
I want you in my bloodstream.
Take over my mind.
I can't get close enough to you.
Your touch has me melting and
Help me believe that youre the right man for my heart..help believe that you can stand to be the mother of my future childrens...
Thoughts of her
Dripping into my sternum
From all the way up there
In my brain
Where she has implanted herself
Like an alien egg
I can't believe I was so blind,
To see the mistakes I made,
To see all the chances I could have taken,
To see all the things that went wrong,
To see all the things I could have prevented.
When you look in a mirror, what do you see?
A smile, an eyelash, a splash of pink gloss?
Noticing her reflection, what does she see?
A short skirt, low-cut shirt, is she totally lost?
I forgot
Those times I sat on my bed and cried, And sobbed my losses after all I tried
And you sat by my side and held me tight
You spoke comforting words to make things right.
So you ask me why I write...
You want to know why I do what I do?
So here, how about I give you a clue,
I am an emotional volcanoe just waiting to erupt,
but not in the way you may think, I don't live to dectruct
Don’t be fooled by the innocent
Smile that’s been glued on
This face, papier-mâchéd with scraps
Of porcelain and love
Poems and kindness
Around a cage of demands
To be pure.
Look! Look! Look!
Brown, hazelnut eyes
Shutter and shift accordingly
As long, unorthodox lashes brush away dust mites
Teeth yellow growing green
Tongue hairier than the green goblin's spleen
Yesterday I dug out the box I hid when I was 15.
It was covered in dirt, worms crawling on it, and smelled like a dirty homeless man.
I was confused, though. I didn’t know how to open it. I completely forgot how it worked.
When people told me being black was a form of inferiority
I wanted to hate white people,
I wanted to tear apart my own brown bones,
Spreading through the clatter of mismatched words,
And unclaimed, dusted culture,
always told to love you unconditionally.
after all, you loved me enough to sacrifice your son for my sins.
sometimes, i wonder if you would have sent him down to a world of homosexuals.
He was born with these genes
That got him wearing tight jeans
And he didn’t have a choice by all means
Living differently with sexuality that leans
Towards another direction that caused scenes
Only a facade, her innocence
Her actions along with her appearance make others tense
They see a sinner, but small and quite sweet
The most darling whore they’d ever meet
Her sin is lust, physical and lush
All I ever wanted
Was for you
To want me
Take me
Absorb me
For who I am
But it seems too much to ask
See that girl sitting over there?
Rumor has it that in the ninth grade
she and a senior boy with a movie poster face and a Hollister body
went at it in the bushes at Sarah Something-Or-Other's 18th birthday party
I call her The Urge,
And she calls to me daily.
Walking down the halls,
I hear her sweet voice,
Calling,
Always calling.
BLED OUT
This pale heart of mine
struggles with atony.
Paper curls rain down
from a fenestrated sky:
Reams of esoteric paeans
soon crumpled by bored scientists.
And suddenly it hits me like a punch in the gut
that I can BE all these beautiful things I read:
I can cut off my hair and wear fishnet stockings
and clomp around in big black boots and I
There's Always gonna be
These moments where us both
Are going to be in need.
In need of a voice,
A touch,
A kiss,
In need of each other.
The seduction of the other,
To seduce the other.
If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I would have to say too many dead bodies fertilize my mind’s garden. Every nook and cranny between the roots is filled with soiled insecurities.
Coming from the same man and woman
The race known as humans have evolved so much,
But one true quality that makes humans unique is our versatile aspects
We can be smart; we can be strong,
He said that he was ready, he said now's the time to go
She was hesitant to answer, she was only twelve years old
But Puppy Love is blinding and her future was unclear
My skin crawls,
I can't help but write.
To you and her and my mother.
“I loved you"
I can't help but write
I can't help but paint
"I loved you"
Onto my head and heart.
I can't help but paint
Discrimination
Five syllables more venomous than a rattlesnake bite.
More painful than a little girl not getting her kiss goodnight.
We all know what it is,
Yet we act as though the impact is nothing.
How do you protect the innocent eyes, in a world filled with lies? Lustful minds that trick the young into irreversible crimes. Hips move in sync, to what eyes through cracked doors have seen. ”If I open my mouth, and bob like this.
If I could see you stretching out above me,
I would meet your unravel of flesh and bone
and sneak past the meat into something cleaner.
I think I would like to see you empty, to
feel the edge of your butterfly hips,
And when she woke, light
Bore into her sweet eyes.
Candle flames flickered
Down to their waxy bases,
Eager to put out their blazing
Flames. Slowly, mildly
Getting up, sensing the
We’re still friends, right? You ask, letting the death knell ring.
Your body was my battlefield
The curves of your waist drew me in, made me cling,
Like a fly to rotting, raw, marbled meat, to a crumbling caricature
