My Sea is Strong I confess, in the heart of night, I imagine myself cascading on my lover’s body. My jewel is a dead sea, salty and safe. Blessed lover soaked with my body. He who drags me to his shore. Who gathers the moans I sow in seashells. Who tosses my kisses back to the sea. Who knows stones are also carved by water. Who steals whatever I have with precision. Who recognizes when to replace what was stolen. This is how I love you, every second committed to your pleasure, but I never say it. I hide the salt crashing on your reef inside my veins.
Good Morning Gulliver Welcome to my day Gulliver, the dogma of “no strings attached” embellish my fingers and toes. Welcome to the nausea tranquilized by the calla’s bribe allowing the animal beneath the skin to sleep. Welcome to my Mapplethorpe’s finger fuck, three dimensional and stepping-off what’s left of hair, lips, eyes with all its deleterious offspring fastening a rope around my neck to asphyxiate the desire to hate or love. Welcome to the libretto of my aging crevices touching and melting no one.
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