Many things I was once good for
I need to be reassured
but I've been loved
with swollen eyes
my skin rippled by the sheets
like dead wood weathered by tunneling raindrops
lying on top of you
as a film of sweat gluesticks us together
belly to back
my body warmed by sleep
microwaved and dished deep
My blood still,
anchored within my skin,
slow cooked
A crock pot of flesh
hot and ready for when you come home
Pulled, Porked, Casseroled
Loose and soupy
A devoted groupie.
And now my cacti are sagging
flaccid and yellowed
and my ferns are charred
I even browned my baby bonsai
despite an appropriate watering regimen and adequate light
I've read that they thrive off the vibrations of the voice
high pitched and raspy
a vocal fry
a wet wet yodel
a distant moan
through speaker phone
But it was a clear decision
to take that pussy off the pedestal
and praise a barnacled phallus
hot tequila in a challis
jerk off to a sunset with calmed malice
I dont just want this
I just want it all
all the perks, all the bouts, all the fits
a conniption of passion
palpable tension
bruises to mention
