My face doesn’t work.
When my family sees me,
They worry, “what has
Happened?” Nothing. This
Is just who I am now. This
Shell is all I am.
My face doesn’t work.
When my family sees me,
They worry, “what has
Happened?” Nothing. This
Is just who I am now. This
Shell is all I am.
He flitters and he
Flutters through my mind all day
Long, and I want to
Suck him dry. Where is
He? Soaking here on my own,
This can’t all go to
Waste. How he murmurs
Nasty phrases in my ear
When we are fucking,
My deepest muscles
Tighten. He makes me feel like
A goddess and a
Whore, newborn and as
Old as time. We vibrate, and
Transcend existence.
Grandfather has been
Dead fifteen years. I put on
My mask today, and
Smelled him in my stale
Sweat, like a revenant. Deep
In my glands, lingers
The old man. Coming
For my youth. Vitality.
Aroma of death.
“Rational truth, root of evil and good.
Round me flew the flaming sword;
Round her snowy whirlwinds roar’d,
Freezing her veil, the mundane shell.
I rent the veil where the dead dwell:
When weary man enters his cave,
He meets his Saviour in the grave.
Some find a female garment there,
And some a male, woven with care,
Lest the sexual garments sweet
Should grow a devouring winding sheet.
One dies! alas! the living and dead!
One is slain! and one is fled!
In vain-glory hatcht and nurst,
By double Spectres, self accurst.” William Blake
I am no one. But
I lift my shirt, and now I
Am your everything.
Never was she taught
To hide that which she was; her
Power, to be shared.
The strangeness of the
Nude form. By undressing, we
Become someone else.
My binary logic:
Nude woman is a gift, nude
Man is a threat. Man
Is ugly, woman
Is beautiful. The way it
Is and will remain.
Leaking nudes without
Consent, a violation,
Worse than a theft. The
Genie, released, the
Damage is done. The tree from
which Eve ate revealed
Her, like how after
Orgasm, you think so clear.
Ham, cursed by his Dad’s
Cock. So it goes. What
We hide from outside is our
Similarity.
Defeated Gorgon
Dread with one glimpse of these
Incredible tits.
No request of yours
Can shame me; I try to act
Appropriately
Mortified at your
More extreme commands, just for
Appearance’s sake
I hid my body
My whole life, ashamed by your
Hungry stare. Now I
Wear my dress, brightly
Colored, and I find you in
My bed. This is not
Right, you are my kin
Better I should die than your
Desires fulfilled.