A Poem

Fucker

 

The doorknob creaks… The floorboards cry…

I come to hear the Sandman’s lie.

He whispers sweetly, “come on in”

My heart recoils, but I give in.

I enter now where fools often dare

Between his sheets of Devil’s snare

With wanton eyes I sit and wait

His bed is dark and desolate

The shadow speaks. His lyre is strung.

I suck the sweetness from his tongue.

Like crumbs tossed in a beggars cup.

With talk of LOVE he fills me up.

He thirsts to drink, to get his fill.

He swoops in quickly for the kill.

His fingers crawl across my skin.

His mouth is hot, I breathe him in.

His phallus brandished in his hand.

A rusty knife to bleed the lamb.

He ploughs me like his clay skinned lover

He tastes like father. He smells like brother

He stabs and pushes further in

I choke on spit and salty skin

My head swims back into the night.

And watching from some desperate height.

I see us poised in every stance

This angel and this prophet’s dance

Both starving, but for different things

Of which our actions never bring

My thoughts start picking at his seams

I claw at him with childish dreams

Our bodies clench, the joy of greed

They crumble as they waste their seed

And tainted by an awkward hue

He whispers softly, “I love you”

 Behind my face I wrench and cry

With every word I bleed inside

With every kiss something else dies

For every lover is another lie.