Fuck Me

FUCK ME
I
I did
I fucked nameless faces in attempt to replace
The first name
That first face

In futile attempts to reclaim that stolen apple

From the garden,

FUCK Me
I fell
The serpent remained

Her body masses
Tightened around my neck
Until
I finally ran out of breath

So in a way yes
She is breath taking

FUCK ME
And I learned to hide a different kind of welt
Scars
Hid them in duality

Beneath the surface

They’d never see that I’m actually not here
Or they never really cared
For all they desire is my tools and skill

Fuck Me
Oh how I wish I’d give up and kill

And I learned her name
Wrinkle lines on her face

Sounds
She’d make

So
Fuck Me
With the swirl of a tongue
Rhythm held hips

Motion of mixed groins
As
Teeth grazed skin met
Bitten lips
And sweet tasting center of hips

Fuck Me
I lost myself in her
I always did
I
Always will

For all they see is a man who knows how to fuck
And
As we laid in silence
She traced my scars

Fuck Me
Drawing lines on the sheets

Picturing stars

She’d try to say I love you
And I’d reply
I only fucked you.

In Others' Words…

Our intention was to dance on his grave.

My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave. Our first dilemma was, of course, song choice. You have to have the right song. We bandied a few song titles about, Alanis Morrisette was a front runner.

Obviously.

We drove to the town where he lived, and where he is buried. We drove to the town where we were abused. Driving down the picturesque New England roads, I felt a little faint. Mary felt a little barfy. We pulled into a store parking lot, and Mary spent some quality time behind a dumpster, hurling. It happens.

We weren’t entirely sure where the cemetery was, so we pulled into a police station to ask for directions. I said, jokingly, We should go in and file a police report. Mary said, What would…

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