sex lives

I've been told that there are savage young sons

who perch themselves upon the steeps

they've never felt any love, they've never felt any peace

and any who see them find themselves in chains

find themselves tied naked to an oak tree

where all the saintliness of the crucifix is wasted in the form

of one more drop of blood on the tip of my finger

so I dream a sentence that captures you and says

squeeze me like a stone bible - resilient

read the brail that bubbles up on my skin in white welts

hot and pulsing as the late evening light shawn down

in a quiet room forgotten by the eyelids of anyone

on a casket where I raise your nipples from the dead

this is like heat, this is like sparks, this is like fire

preaching like a rainbow in studded repose

with hymns of your gemstone teeth on my neck

a sunrise conducting fellatio on the horizon

greased and the stars split into pairs and hush

rub together like flint on steel - vibrating onward

those savage young sons don't understand

what makes the beast track a thousand miles

or kill in the orgasmic dance of violence

those savage young sons don't comprehend

that your thighs are the passage to the gate

and the gate will change your life

I grabbed her arms and pushed her on the bed

I was rough and I was unkind to her

her skirt slid over her knees

her tights split along the seam where I tore

she gasped and squeezed her breast

she ran her fingers through my hair

I bit the plump flesh of her labia

I flicked her clit with my tongue

and then there was nothing left

but sounds and scents and touch

nothing but eight limbs tangled

and a cry disposed to a soft reprise

s. sparling