The Garden Bed

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Last night I dreamt
that I visited a garden
on a sunny street,
where I found you
digging in the dirt.

You put down your tools
and drew me to you,
kissing and touching me all over.

I licked your skin
and tasted the soil.

You laid me down
in the garden bed
and fucked me good
against the warm earth.

If Only

I am angry and sad today about the unfairness of life. I long for a life in which I could openly love a man without inevitably pushing him away or causing him to rampantly take advantage of me.

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If only I had the power and poise of a ringmaster
I would create a circus to amuse you,
of daredevil stunts and exotic pleasures.
Already I have flipped and dove
like an acrobat
for you.
Flying into thin air
and falling into the net
of nothing.
I have performed for you
my titillating burlesque show.
I have given you too many sweets.
But I have not lead you
inside the lion’s den,
nor fed you to the hungry tigers.

You are a strange one, my love.
Not made of soft earth like me,
but of fire,
and the wind
that feeds it.

Your mother ran out of milk
while you were still suckling.
Lack became your preferred feast.
Now you crave the torment
of a dry breast,
a woman who gives nothing.

If only
I could give you that!
Maybe someday, someday
I will stop loving you

and seduce…

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Dating Advice

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Be just out of reach.

Be unavailable.

Be gone.

 

Don’t be yourself.

Be prettier than you are.

Be thinner than you are.

 

Don’t love.

Don’t show your love.

Don’t tell anyone you love them.

 

Don’t think about sex.

Don’t want sex.

Don’t ever have sex.

 

Simply follow this advice, ladies

(be an absence,

a falsehood,

a lack,

a void,

a loss)

and men

will marry you.

Like New

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Even though you have touched my body

again and again,

I am still like new today,

rising in the dawn of this morning

to breathe with desire

for your hands,

as though it were

the first time.

 

I am new

like America was,

inhabited for thousands of years,

and yet still waiting

in dappled sunlight,

coffers brimming with gold and chocolate,

to be discovered.

My Lover’s Eyes

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My lover’s eyes are stony,

impassive,

like the inscrutable eyes

of God

when we make love.

 

And I am a precious jewel,

shining radiantly

in the mirror of his gaze,

my skin creamy ivory,

my lips pink like rhodochrosite,

the hard rubies of my nipples gleaming,

waiting to be polished further

by his tongue.

 

We glow together.

 

Love is a diamond,

multifaceted and rare,

formed from the weight

of extraordinary pressure,

yet exquisite to behold

when all is said

and done.