July 26, 2009


by xTx

Salty. It’s all there. So human. (In)vertebrates all. Let’s deconstruct. Each other. Your ballsack. My taint. Your beard. My left tit. Your chipped tooth. My pockmark. Overtly tangible…your lips…the heat from between your thighs. I’m aloft. Your asshole - a taste sensation. A boarded up house. A crowbar. Twenty bikers rough from the road. It’s all good baby. I have something for you. Clean sheets and. It’s a Columbine evening of tearing you apart. Lock me in your basement. Cut my hair. Scald me. Scar me. She says, “Jack off in my hair.” and he just laughs. It echoes in a place she cannot see, but she hears it somehow. It sounds like she is being mocked. It’s ‘bad form’ she thinks. She wishes he would’ve simply said, “Yes”, spit on his palm, and got to task.


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