feel

Feel me roar in the avenues of the sun.
Feel my power, equal to fucking none.
Feel your legs, they quiver as you are undone,
by my teeth, my lips, my breasts, and my tongue.
Feel as your heart pounds like a machine gun.
Feel my hands around your throat, one by one.
Feel the empty shadows flee, for I’ve won!
Feel your body shaken, riddled, and spun.
Feel daggers of my hands and feet, have your fun.
Feel the silk of my hair, I know, you’re stunned.
Feel the edge of my knives evade your lungs,
Feel impossible lightning that has sprung.
Feel, the tones of my heart, for you have sung,
Feel the edges of sanity fully wrung,
Feel the moments of ecstasy fully flung,
Feel your sweating body, I’ve just begun.

offering

First, I was on the litter,
as rustics carried me ever closer to you;
those demonic angel masks,
bellowing eyebrows,
and flowing fingers.
They danced, and all I saw was color,
color to the beat of the drums,
against the beads of your constellation.
I saw you, Taurus, dios, flood,
and they brought me ever closer
to your sinister stampede
atop the mountains.
Now, they are tying my hands
with rough hemp and
loosening my hair which
snaps in the wind,
a forest of morse code.
The virgins remove my
white, ashy, gauze
robe so you may
see my silhouette
against the moon.
Their throats are slit and
their blood mingles with the platters
of grain and berries;
those rich red berries saturated in
delicious holy blood.
The drums stop for the wind,
and all I see are frightened faces
melting into one another;
cowards! They run, fast,
back down the mountain,
and leave me here to wait for you.
I watch the wind call your name,
I am as tall as all your trees,
I am dark and powerful,
I am writhing on this splintered pile,
I can hear you coming.
Do you know why they sacrifice
me?
Because I could
destroy you.
And there you are, galloping wildly
through your spring streams;
your face is life itself,
your hair is scorpions,
your blessed hands untie me and
I don’t care where we are going
or what you will do to me,
just do it, do it, go, faster
and never
stop.

passions

I.
You have me drowning in
black-heart caresses,
circling ever
around the drain.
You have me idling
in my own arms,
seeking your
festooning pleasures.
You have me
chasing insidious notes
and stanzas;
churning them under my
eyelids.

II.
Take me in your hands,
over your head,
like a boulder;
smash me hard
onto the ground,
god, it feels so good to break.

III.
You hold them in your arms,
and think of destroying me.

cherry braids

We morph and have wings
like words.
I memorize them the way
lovers memorize faces.
I want you tracing curves,
stealing my embellishments with your tongue.
A raucous frenzy.
I want you worshiping
like they used to do on temple steps
amid streaming citrus and
pomegranate.
Balsam and cherries.
Braids and corded crowns call your
name from massive stone stairways.
Idolize me outside the walls.
I will not be taken.
I give.
Startling sensations butterfly my
silk-softened wounds,
as you encase me,
gorgeous,
lofty,
in a prism prison
of war.
Your red sun is shooting sparks
over my lively fatalities,
my breathing cadavers,
my frozen lungs,
my opened heart.

more

love is most certainly a trident of foolishness plunging through your chest.

lust is much worse, its sickening violin string debauchery.

attention lurks in a trench coat behind the dumpsters in the alley where you must walk home from work everyday.  it laughs at you as you hasten your speed.

compliments divide and conquer like Johnny Appleseed emperors; pies and corpses.

desire floats in a hideous parade, all spangled with seat belts and natural disasters.

need dries its hands on your soul, leaving smudges like overturned canoes.

and flirtation is just like this: an ecstatically bland jumble of words like towers, keeping you out and locking you in.

hair