Brute

The very man I love is a bulge, a lump a dangerous thing, but I love lying next to him.

You fantastic brute, and

your shoulders of hard bone.

A face like a statue.

I lay between your legs and dream the worlds end,

It-

a peaceful silence echoing in my ear.

Still I feel the press of your lips against mine-

as I lay free over your legs.

Your hand roams like beetles-

Tick Tick,

There is silence in the darkness.

You my marble obelisk,

With your limp wrist and dead c**k-

know of me.

If I were to holler,

You'd swallow my noise.



You fantastic brute-

In the valley of wind-

a whole in your chest!