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Don't talk to strangers, you say
why the hell do you dress that way?
You're asking for it, asking for
-gasp- objectification.

Idolized, objectified,
working with what can be
rectified, a sense of placement
in my misplaced world
questioning the basics
of "boy" and "girl".

I've loved boys like girlfriends
smeared lipstick on lips
that have tasted more dick
than I could even imagine
in my gang-rape nightmares
when I wake up questioning my
feminist principals
committing the unthinkable
imagining for a moment
that lesbianism is more than a political party.

More than me
is the man towering over me,
his dick strapped on for my pleasure
fear and rapture
and images of being forced
wide open

Once upon a time I was
helpless, trapped
beneath a man that still haunts my fantasies
forced too wide for his rapacious destiny
and me, too little to remember his face.
Too little for too many things.
I can feel the scars until
I feel that stretch
that breath
that endless caress
when some mind blows on mine
and erases those careless memories
for a time.

I've been found hiding behind
words too powerful for my control
pinned beneath choices I made
and crucified for enjoying the ride,
for putting my lover's face on
my pedophiles' memories
for being too honest to lie.

You can deny
you can deny me,
deny what you were feeling when you were
feeling me.
Deny how you were soaked under your dick
when I picked that word so
eloquently simple
so simply illogical
so devastating that your hips didn't care
your lips didn't care
your clit as it burned
at the base of your dick
didn't care
and as matter of fact
were elated by the use of that word

A title, a pet name, a fucking accusation
Oh yes, you liked it.
You came for it,
bit bruises into my neck as I screamed it
like a confession we shared it
as a door to our salvation.
As gospel and revelation we
devoured it and
the red tracks down your back are pure proof
of the fact
that sometimes
it's worth looking back.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Feb. 25th, 2009 08:36 am (UTC)
Your words, so powerful to weave such imagery, emotion, sensation....amazing.

Indeed, it is "worth looking back".

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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