Sometimes we meet in hotels

By | 1 November 2017


Which brings us to the strap-on—

thrusting manufactured

without the shame of connected tissue—

and, accordingly,
my gaze which he has named demonic.


From the Greek daimonikos.

Opened for gloating spear
twelve floors in sleepless indigo.

Above sin, divorced from Maat.


I have had but kept none.

The woman I loved escaped and

my only hold is to his cheek
while I drive my love in.

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