Holy ghost.
Formless fingers find purchase on my throat.
Mirage oasis.
Sun-blistered I crawl to you through my desert of desire,
You are the drip upon chapped lips.
Enveloping ink.
Make me a canvas for your creation.
Contort these limbs until they can grasp at only your image.
Dark Midas: a subtle touch and I am yours.
Lamentable lover.
Wet breath ejaculates from my lips,
Faceless pairs of legs knot at my hips,
Nameless bodies I thrust to be inside,
I hear only your moaning, my tortured mind.
Self-Sufficient symptom.
You are the broken leg telling me sitting is more comfortable,
The rash screaming that this itch is my only pleasure,
The parasite in whose absence I cannot continue.
I cannot mend a mind that does not want healing.
But I was before thee and I shall be again.
Fire-Fearing Fantasy.
Should you require more fuel than I can muster,
Let bonfires erupt from silent screams and sleepless nights,
And burn thee until thou ashes lie in communion with my soot-smothered smiles.
Burn,
Burn,
Burn you wretched id.
Secrete your virulent voices and have them lost in the smoke of my rage,
Fumes rising from the livid liquid pouring from my being,
I exude you,
I am apart from thee,
My bittersweet bedfellow,
The flea with the face of a friend,
Though we are beyond the time of exorcisms:
I will hold whatever icon need rest above my heart,
That might cast this snake out from my Eden,
Insha’Allah
Haile Selassie
Praise be to Prozac
Amen.