be the oozing pus filled sore

edging forward along your left arm
I cum
to the spot where your elbow hides
behind

soft
unsweat-covered

so
I lik
e you
this way
then that

aloud






silent
the pause between
is immeasurable
until

you have a ruler
like me.

we pretend it is pleasure
as the pain dances
and the bial rises from
your toes
to the top of your throat

like love
and God
and all that she we pretend is real

until we know it is
n't.



the twelve hundred hairs
line the vein running wristward
stand at attention

then
with a fetid breath of rotting
breakfast and plaque covered
teeth

I remember longing
and you

the color of my oozing
yearnings.



Yum.