Want

I want to cum so hard

I want to cum so hard, it hits you right in the eye

Yeah, in the eye, fucker, learn to like going down

If I have to swallow a river, a spritz shouldn’t make you frown.

I want to laugh so crazily

I want to laugh so crazily, my teeth glint in the sun

And my mouth stretches till I’m braying like a hyena

And you’re staring, trying to be so brave – you liar!

I want to stare at you

I want to stare at you, my eyes like pools

Stripping, shearing the skin off you like masking tape

Until you are shivering bones, so easily torn like crepe

I want to snap my body back

I want to arch it high, over your head

Smack my leg across your face – yeah, take it

The crack of your cheekbones, blood spilling where the foot ripped

I want to slam you in the throat

Curl my fingers into the sockets in your head

Squeeze your spirit out, my hand oozing with juice

Grab your stick and shake the balls loose

And then let me watch you

Watch you as you’re leering at me right now

In the shops, in the bus, on your bike, across the street
Grins raking over me like fresh meat to eat

Art by Pranjali Dubey (@kalmuhi on Instagram)

In the Well

I had a dream once
That I was in a deep, dark well
A hollow creature, subhuman
A body, really
No face

I was everywhere
And nowhere
All at once, in space and not
On ground or in it.

I made sounds, no talk
Grunting, burping
Farting, snorting
Even a queef, for a laugh

I did not wonder how to move
I did not care to raise that head
To look up at the sky - blue, black, grey
I know not in my dream

Like an old clock though
I weathered on
Not that I knew time
Because I was not living a life

Soon the weathered wet bricks
Were my palms
The damp stone
My seat

The curling ends of my hair
Was it hair? More a beast merged with mine
The worms through the cracks
Cousins accompanying the queefs

In the heat was sweat and in the cold, tremors
What did I, whatever I was, know of them?
A curious, painful numbness
My head was merely a heavy accessory

I am now part of the well
And I wish I could tell
How I woke, how I went on
How morning was another life

Irony is a masterful poet
And in this one
She weaves a thread
Known to many, entertained by few

See, I told you this was a dream
It was
At this point I pause my pen
To lean over the rim

I enjoy my work, indeed
As does my touch in the works of others
Rarely do I feel
And this is no exception

It grunts in its space
Master of its own shell
But I am not inquisitive
I like to leave well enough alone

To entertain that this thing
Could dream the truth of my words
What fun! It is absurd
I am, however, aware of one thing

One shared connection, though I shudder
I do not feel, it does not feel
We could be so like each other
Instead, I drop my pen
And my words

Into the well
It does not stir
But I like to think
Some day

It will learn
And it will weep
And I will laugh
And then, the link will be broken