Lit upon
guts betray us!
Desire comes up all infliction
straight flush hysterical
this carbon foot I’m nursing

Like shame but without it
the wick lit upon burning
the sensation isn’t
but a peppermill

Firstly. the weight of my body on its seat
I’m interested in behind in front of me

Now what do you call it?

Speech it, talk it to me
un-mortified, on the other side of not
Right Now we’re 100% perineum
100% lactic grind grind
100% wicks lit

Nowadays a minds eye types
typing YES typing me into you
If this was it’s now too
all the way to over
And inside us: heme, protein
and outside us:
this graying parachute pinks