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M.A.D. (mutually assured detachment)

Liar.
My half-track eyes,
Spy;
A Liar.
 
A mind swept clear,
Save the single thought;
To Stalk, within my striking view;
Dead-set upon the Liar,
The Liar; You.
 
From these blued eyes inviting,
And once overtly soft;
To a misanthropic, mil-dot clocked;
Hyper-focused stare down range;
I am sighting in:
On
     Your
            WORD.
 
....And what my ears hear,
   My ears have not yet heard.
 
Leaving me to question
The Path
And if I have led
Or been led  
And in what way then
Have I come to learn
 
Of my own copper
In the style
Of a many broken bone
And from beneath these fingers
Having felt promise freed
When my hands loosened release
Every scent; sent out
Retracing
That residual appeal
Found through tasting
A Woman untouched
Such is beauty, a sight surreal
Without wither; nor fading
Or obligation left to be paid
To those hung in frame
Conned by the Aging
Of divided bonds
Made still, and waiting
On the maturity of Love...
And that portion is named:
—Thief
Taking with it the tally
The turn
The point
And receipt
 
 
By these words;
A dreams value skewed.
 
Erasing, from the scroll and leaf
The Scribe; cloaking impure ink
Adjusts the script, penned in belief
But found bound in full Trust
Now gathers up the sum
The sum
Of our futures final Thrust
 
So dig
Dig into the surface
Dig behind the eyes
Dig up every mouth
That ever fed inside Her thighs
And dig
Just dig
Dig up every Word
And every “Suck It” said
Every gag ensured
From mouthfuls giving head
Then leave it
Just leave it to me
To clean up your mess
.... And you will see,
    My dear;
    You will see.
 
Let me ask...
How many times tonight,
Did you hear “Your ass is mine!”?
And were you cordial in your reply,
While giving head to these men’s wives?
Or did you simply catch upon your face,
Any fetch that came your way?
 
Dig.
Dear,
You must dig.
 
Dig deep to be that spouse.
Just ahead they’re thirteen strangers,
Waiting on your mouth.
They’ve been calling out your man,
And feeding on his doubt;
After all what’s the difference,
If his 'devoid’ is your 'devout’;
And how the hell will he get off,
If he doesn’t turn you out?
 
Dig.
 
Just imagine.
Imagine, promising them all;
Win, lose, or bathroom stall.
Or maybe you would thrice be seen;
A sheath.
A 'Shroud for the Crowd’;
So eagerly put to throat,
After you hip sway and stroke.
Your insides maxed out;
The depth,
That endless depth;
Is now...
Dead-end broke.
 
Dig,
Sweetheart.
Dig.
 
Remove the thoughts, love.
 
~ “Right on Bro!
I fucking love your wife!
She’ll ball and swallow,
Then chin catch every rope!...
Bro....
She has got to be,
This clubs hottest Joke!” ~
 
Dig asshole, dig.
Your mistakes,
I don’t have to forgive.
 
~ 'Just think
How cool is this...
I can leave my wife in a circle scene;
Where they’ll keep her busy,
Working hand-relief.
And when she gets too tired,
From dodging balls and spitting jizz...
I can get my cock off;
By younger broads with tighter trim.' ~
 
So I dig,
I dig within my House.
I dig to find the Lies;
The Liar,
And the Louse.
 
So fluid, and on the move;
She rides a seamless liquid gait.
If She falls, She will fall;
While tying tongues to liberate.
Every lie,
Behind lips glassine;
Rush out in waves,
That wash me clean.
Shoved under breast,
The secret drenched;
Spurred on by layers gleaned,
From every stain and every swing;
Achieving in the way...
The way, of the 'Penis League’.
 
Forgive me.
For I
Forgave
You.
 
Serpentine Queen
Spin their semen streams
Warp and Weft
Make it official
Loom a thousand heartfelt Bedding Rings
Because at some point very soon
Certainly You must
With so many a thrown cord
Hailing back room bench or bust
All Your time spent with the floor
Chasing first-place focused strokes
.... They oughta count for somethin’, Right?
 
Liar.
My loving Liar.
So aggressively She came,
Her Message; Incessant,
Hence it bore the name:
—Deceit
In heat;
Inside of Her they lay;
A Mother fucking All,
Despite Her first born pangs.
 
So Tactile.
So Gravid.
Through Her labor I became;
Liar inspired,
And I by freeing flesh was caged.
 
Neither chaste,
Nor clanging bolt cut belt;
You who pound the strip,
And peddle out your pelt.
Whom on call and tread-worn shod,
Nod;
—For softened cock or whipping rod.
 
Upon hardened face and virgin thought,
With all desire laid out, and deeply crossed;
It was on this Angel skin I leaned my lance,
And so beveled was the flesh,
Dressed in all the royal hues;
Rendered too precious a thing...
Her scarlet.
Her purple.
Her bruise.
 
Upon hardened face and virgin thought;
My Angel skin, is needle wrought.
 
—And I’ve had them all,
  And all I have lost;
  Drop... by drop... by drop...
 
So commence to crawl,
And sink deep into this Liar.
 
Just to coax it out,
Into and through Her sharpened mouth.
A cleansing Word said pure,
Set firm inside my doubt.
 
Without hint or whisper,
None.
Nothing.
Not a single sound,
Carressed Her smiles quiver;
No utterance came leaking.
But by lure,
Without seeking;
Found in Her eyes,
The words longed for;
—Were speaking.
She spoke nothing of the violence,
Nothing of the sex.
Nothing of the thoughts,
That forever over...
I had wept.

(2014)

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