They want to whisk the lust from my lips, beat the alcohol

from my stomach, teach me how to not desire other women

how to rebuild gardens of shame in my body. Instead, I dug

my nails into this broken culture, ran to the closest sparkler,

then lit it with a hungry tongue. I carved my own scripture

onto this stomach.

Nothing has ever felt holier.

Noor Hindi

don’t stop

June 23, 2020

dont stop when you notice my eyelids fluttering closed, dont stop when you realize i couldnt stay conscious one moment longer, dont stop when i go limp and vulnerable beneath your hands. dont stop dont stop dont stop. keep going until youre satisfied. even if that means cumming deep inside my soft, defenseless body – if that means two, three, four more orgasms. take your fill of me.

Honey
Don’t stop

Relief –

June 21, 2020

I’m burning up and need your cool hands to bring me relief –

I wanted to touch her. The reflecting image of a woman with a woman is seductive. I enjoyed looking at her in a way that was forbidden to me, this self on self, self as desirer and desired, had a frankness to it I had not been invited to discover. Desiring her I felt my own desirability. It was an act of power but not power over her. I was my own conquest.

Her breasts as my breasts, her mouth as my mouth, were more than Narcissus hypnotised by his own likeness. [….] You see, I could have rested there beside her, perhaps forever, it felt like forever, a mirror confusion of bodies and sighs, undifferentiated, she in me, me in she and no longer exhausted by someone else’s shape over mine.

Jeanette Winterson
Gut Symmetries

bite yourself hungry

May 24, 2020

Like bundles of raw nerve endings under soft flesh. Twisting this way and that. Huddled together in pain or pleasure: leaving signs of the enormity of our connection. You need to bite yourself hungry. Fingers tracking skin, reconfirming desire; life – pure animals fighting for love, for combination in impulsive gestures. Feed off of each other; feed with such greedy desperation. Oh, yes, get it done and do it to me.

Need

November 10, 2019

I need you
YOU
with me: inside me
penetrating my soul
not with romantic or melancholic airs
but with your cock and fingers
suffocating the cold
with your bodily heat
healing my anxiety –
I want to have you anywhere
and everywhere:
a lift
a park
the office
an alleyway
touching my breasts
your cock stiffening
guided by our wildest desires
touching paradise
despite our cloak of sin –
I need you
YOU

Dee

All night

November 10, 2019

We spoke all night in tongues,
in fingertips, in teeth.

Robert Hass
Spring

sacrificial lamb

November 9, 2019

Once every month he visited the woman who wore a carapace of black rubber and a face-mask. She had a room in her house that she’d transformed years ago into a torture chamber. It was in there she did what she did to him, the things so desperately required to replenish his emptiness. Tied to a solid wooden cross, a sacrificial lamb, his head full of silence broken by the sound of her spikey high heels on the wooden floorboards as she circled him, dragging her shadow behind her like a vast, unappreciated weight. He was all appetite. Soon he’d be filled to overflowing with pain. She laughed and he glimpsed Armageddon in her eyes – So his ordeal began.

My need is for poetry

October 31, 2019

My need is for poetry,
the burning magic of words
that awaken unguessed at emotion –
and understanding,
sometimes only partial.
I need poetry,
its vivid colours firing imagination
and opening the souls of us all.

P

Pericardium

September 25, 2019

Am I not alone, as I thought I was, as I thought
The day was, the hour I walked into, morning
When I felt night fly from my chest where prospect had
Slackened, and close itself off, understanding, as I thought I did,
That the ground would resist my legs and not let them
Break nor let them be released into air as my heart, in its
Muscle, might be released from the body that surrounds it,
Like someone who, placing a hand on a shoulder’s
Blade, felt a life move inside an hour and a day
Break from the day the hour meant something more than weakness,
More than fear, and flew forward into the depths of
Prospect, your arms, where you’d been, before me, waiting
For me, the way the body has always been waiting for the heart to sense
It is housed, it is needed, it will not be harmed.

Joanna Klink