“Draw me a bath,” I said,
A cold, quiet reprieve,
A faucet spewing shame,
From my breasts right down to my feet,
Draw me a bath, as I draw you a picture,
An awkward sketch of my naked soul,
A portrait of such filth and decadence,
It is but a rotten, solitary monstrosity,
Draw me a bath, pray,
Draw another breath for me —
Another night of blue-veined slumber,
Another moment in purgatory.
[Featured image: Silvia Grav]
and swallowed whole
into the earth that birthed my wayward pneuma;
the old thing —
cracked, jagged, and charcoal.
Thought and desire war, squirming under my skin;
weird, voluminous, wrong.
I feel incomplete, un-whole.
And then, she’s there – a sharp, devastating ache.
She’s a tempest —
a sense of chaos, madness, the curling of toes.
Hot and uncomfortable as noon I lay here,
under this flimsy skin,
fostering hideousness and hope.
Hit by an edge of defiant anathema every now and then;
it rots with me —
shameful, ugly, vacant, and cold.
If her skin crawled up to me,
we’d collide —
hands, lips, hearts, and throats.
With heavy breaths and a quivering consciousness,
our senses fractured and dissovled,
we’d slip under the earth – soil and petrichor.
[Featured Image: Heitor Magno]
We both sweat
like weeping candles
lit and left forgotten for hours
Our flames burn high and bright
our pores sob
in the strange tongue of desire that our mouths are too busy to speak
“You’re so dirty,” he says
his breath hot and wet at the back of my neck
his palms rough and greedy at the curve of my hip
His words drift in the thick air around us
until they reach me
I hear his voice
it echoes in the movement of my blood
settles in my bones
I want to scream
I loved him with everything I knew and everything I didn’t
love leaked out of my pores
and onto the clothes I would soon shed for him.
Because I wanted him close
close enough to feel it cracking my bones and shattering the paradigm of my thoughts cataclysmically
the way it always did
But there he stood
while he made love to a notion fed to him by an ecclesiastical spoon known for ladling deceit
Take me from behind
take me in the earth
WHY TAKE ME AT ALL
if I’m dirty?
I loved him with abandon
almost to a fault
so despite myself
I let him paint on me his filth
make me dirty
[Featured image via: Cesar Biojo]