Watch Me

I’m no longer his disciple

I’m Master now

Me, metaphor morphed

into reality

Me, with subjects at my feet

My hands unbound

To devastate their bodies

With pleasure and pain

Soliloquy 

Perplexed by the paralysis

of my tongue,

I want him pinned down,

tied,

and bound

I can’t wait to stroke it,

fondle his fear,

tap stilettos beside

his ear

Dear Darkness,

I want him. And

I’ll try not to break him

while he hovers

between

ecstasy and existence

And when I Iet him come

back to reality

he’ll see me lick the

remnants of a furious

harvest from my hand

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• Art by @Aliciarihko •

Writer’s Eye

I’m an observer,

but I’m not judging

Show me

your darkness,

your deviant,

your divine

I’ll put you to paper

different

than you are in your mind

Show me chaos

your build-up

to the hurricane

How majestic you are

gathering things

Searching for a flashlight

like it’ll give you wings

Power Animal

power animal is the brand

she faked it for so long

that it finally stuck

except

with him

with him

there’s no hiding

he slides down her shirt

charting kisses like algorithms

up her neck

abstract to introduction

their lips meet

slippery and sweet

and it rattles

the ground she walks on

forgetting Amy Cuddy,

she can’t stand tall

with him, she’s

usually horizontal

his fingers sink inside her

like a mad painter in a stroke of genius

mixing colors together

faster and faster

he holds her closer

he sees her

on different dimensions

from lioness to whimpering mess

Throbbing Veins & Belongings

It’s a quiet Sunday morning. The sun plunges in through the window, painting glow worms on your back. Shadows shift with your body, which jerks as you beat eggs. My eyes walk the teeth-marked train tracks trailing from the nape of your neck to your right shoulder.

You place the bowl on the counter to find a spatula. The instrument glistens in your hand reflecting blue-orange fire. Overwhelmed
by a hunger I can no longer withstand, I dismount the stool.

The chair squeaks as it glides over the floor and you turn to face me. 
“Stay there,” you say, radiating a savagely intriguing warmth.

I disobey. 

Inching closer, I drink you in with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. You are all shaggy-haired and golden skin. I’m before you, tip-toe balancing, reaching, straining my calves to meet your lips. You are my home, towering over me, smiling with the corners of your lips up.