You’ve taught me:
it’s hard
to love yourself
when you give yourself up
like meat for slaughter
when you’re taught
you are not an animal,
you are the meat;
you are a hole to be filled
and wiped clean afterwards;
you are the microphone
through which he speaks.
Even before I fuck you
I’ll remember my name,
part of the heavens you’ve never seen,
let alone touched.
Leave me alone to write, without you.
Your gaze makes me too tired to speak.
This is my time to breathe,
not your time to sink me down with you.
You’re 4 months into America
and you think you can laugh at our president?
Tell me what street to take?
Sex led me to you?
Is that what we did?
No.
You cannot touch
what you cannot see–
your heart is nowhere on this table,
on this bed. Your ego lifts you
(to make up for your small dick).
Am I right?
Do you believe in “right”?
Me neither.
But I do believe in justice.
What do you believe in?
December 6, 2018