when my mind sleeps

i will tongue

i will finger

i will thrust deep

even go into the other hole

on a great pilgrimage to your spirit

to make love with your soul

today i'm gonna write

to the mistress, from a servant boy

on your hills i wallow
and down to your mound
myself i burrow
tell me 'please dont stop,
taste my mango & pray on my grotto'
lay with me tonight

for the devil may take tomorrow

excerpt from a letter found hidden under a pot in the middle of a monastery garden

T_E

He takes of the white sheet that envelops your body

You are supine and naked - He is clothed in darkness

His fingers travel from your forehead

Tracing the bridge of your nose

It continues to run through your neck

Stops in that soft spot just below your sternum

His left hand lays flat on your stomach

His right hand brings in the scalpel

He slices through that soft spot

Creates an incision two inch in length

He slowly climbs on top of you

The table becomes a bed for two

He holds his organ - veins are pumping

Places it near the incision

He enters the wound

An intense pleasure races inside him

It was warmer than he thought

It was a different feeling - he goes deeper

He pushes his hips closer to your chest

Your esophagus rubs on his organ

He cant fight the urge - He penetrates more

This is the closest he gets to your heart

He feels your lungs licking his organ

Like a smooth wet tongue

As he reaches his peak, he moves harder

So hard

Your ribs crack

Your thorax bend

Your intestines eviscerate

His last push pins your chest on the table

Your diaphragm overflows with cum

The world changes - the clock ticks 10 pm

He sutures the wound with fine dexterity

He washes your body

You are pure as a diamond

Tomorrow is a big day

For both him and you

You will be laid to rest

And he

Will lead the sermon

11-26-2010

Petroleum Jelly

Yesterday, I

painted my nails bright red,

braided my unkempt strands of copper-colored hair,

dipped my pale fingers

into that tub of petroleum

and felt how moist and warm

the jelly was.

Lingered for a few seconds,

got lost in the dampness for a moment,

made small circles around the Vaseline

and finally

dab a little of it

into my parched lips.

Parted them both

for a tinge of my magenta lipstick.

In front of the mirror,

I saw

two folds of flesh in the dark,

glistening as one.

4 points

from Break

He thrust without guilt, going deep on the first lunge, severing, severe, within, underneath, reaching those little, fragile places I knew existed but was uncertain as to where until his first cut, deeper, hurting like healing would never come, irrevocably destroyed, I struggled to hold on to anything intact, shifting on hard surfaces, wooden drawers, metal knob, the length of his back while he goes deeper, piercing through, slicing me from below, before withdrawing—

suddenly a gap, an absence—

then back again, a plunge, a pain never quite complete, ebbing farther, fragments of me scattered inside, fragments I could never reclaim again once he is gone, once the rupture and rapture become hazy, cerebral, regressing as ideas, afterthoughts, along with the endless tastes of our bodies, clay, copper, earth, iron, musk, salt, smoke, along with knots, tangles, moans, aliases, repositions, throbs, shoves, friction, sweat, euphoria, along with my sudden death. There was heaven. I looked up, and the light exploded.