The aftershock hits me
like the aroma of newly
lit cigarettes floating from
floor to floor | room to room
acting like the passenger
of these oxidizing air vents.
You laugh because fear radiates
from your skin, because your nerves
are tangled and your body no
longer knows what down feels like.
You laugh because I bit
your n****e a little; because I
scratched a map of San Francisco
in your back. You laugh as I go
down between your thighs; as I spread
your legs | lips superultramega wide;
as I dash my tongue side to side.
You laugh. You f*****g laugh.
You mock me. Postmark me
as your virgin s**t in letters you
broadcast for all not to see.
You draw my name in pig’s blood.
Skin me. Drain me. Chop me. Serve
me for dinner with fresh fruit on top
and I halt not what I see, what I feel.
This is merely a transaction and
games must be played.
Freeze tag is the world’s
new essential and I’ve been
tagged. So I pause. Relay.
Watch you climb over me.
Will this, this this of actions and
precedence, manifest as another
battle or will teeth sink, fingers
engage, and tongues lock as we
sacrifice ourselves for complete
satisfaction?
The trouble is, I am not a judge.
I do not believe in civil morality
just this physical science of
women f*****g each other
and this is where you hold me
close; where you sweat; where
you collapse into whatever bliss
may come from this new found
freedom.