After The Devil
she chose a hermaphrodite
it was quite by accident he did not advertise on his dirty t-shirt
or the filth beneath his bittern nails
something about the sad premature crease
of his grief and a slowness when they sat
drinking in silence listening to Nick Cave, fingers entwined
an ugly cupid with smooth hairless face and small hands
he had more passion in his molten brand of madness
drew her out of herself like a needle filled with blood
why shouldn’t she feel again? she was only
half used up
the finger prints of her humiliation could not
come off in his porcelain bath but there was some comfort
crushed underneath a new lover
her heart after all was deformed
mistake and gore of nature in her grandeur
how unhinged people can hold each other up
understanding the slur of repulsion
he took a photo of her before she knew
her elongated labia was showing
his pot belly and marshy dark nipples
they were horrified to see in reproduction
the honesty of their cavort via camera
disgusting really
to be so young and so
imperfect
and such a relief at the same time
his wrinkled penis was less than an inch and she
had the smear of Electra urging her entreaty
when he held her down and reenacted
the snuff films of Dario Argento
squeezing almost tight enough to come
she saw a momentary quenching of anguish
like a reverse motion water fall
his urine landing on her flattened breasts
hanging over her rib cage in thin abandon
open your legs he said and show me your filth and scars
and though she had read Simone de Beauvoir
and Luce Irigaray
she found herself widening them
into a vile parody of former shyness
go on then she said
eat me out even though I disgust you
because he was filled with mocking self-hate
his little prick useless for much else aside frotage
he gave the best head she ever had
bar none
maybe it felt that way
because they had twisted and turned
until their skulls lay beside them
watching two ugly creatures
chew on their mutual sorrow
(thank you all at Hijacked Amygdala)
