- I’m working on a conspiracy theory:
- that my face could fit
- in a lion’s mouth if
- She wanted me.
- And if She needs
- it, I’ll stare
- down the alleyway of
- Her pharynx,
- gallery of
- undulating intestines,
- hear Her heart,
- throb to the rhythm of fulfillment.
- I’m with you; I’ll scream in tempo.
- In contemplating
- anything existential,
- I’ll realize we should begin by
- letting ourselves
- be consumed. So I’ll get the whip hand
- tonight, in a flood of hot, sour,
- spit, and enjoying
- every bit of it.
- Digest her philosophical
- musings; sinless
- heavy.
- I hear you; I’ll bury myself
- in the warm spikes
- of Her tongue
- and mean every bit of it.
