Rec | ANNE SEX ;) [A] TON

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The Fury of Cocks There they are drooping over the breakfast plates, angel-like, folding in their sad wing, animal sad, and only the night before there they were playing the banjo. Once more the day's light comes with its immense sun, its mother trucks, its engines of amputation. Whereas last night the cock knew its way home, as stiff as a hammer, battering in with all its awful power. That theater. Today it is tender, a small bird, as soft as a baby's hand. She is the house. He is the steeple. When they fuck they are God. When they break away they are God. When they snore they are God. In the morning they butter the toast. They don't say much. They are still God. All the cocks of the world are God, blooming, blooming, blooming into the sweet blood of woman.

@animalskentucky

Oct 30, 2023

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@florinegrassenhopper

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@bitchscape

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I ate my heart today

My four chambered friend writ across stolen paper your red walls pulsing in my hands with a song so loud, so salty sweet, my lover to devour in the afternoon up three thousand steps, poetry on company time, secrets held close to the chest like playing cards, nine of hearts in my arsenal like a cat falling from the roof eight times into oblivion I save my ace. I’m a hunk holding a hunk, I’m Casanova and I really want to know you, I’m a heart throb on a mission. My star across the sky and on a waiting list a meteor patiently in line at the self checkout, with a fistful of ibuprofen and a need to speed right into my bed. Answer my emails from between silk sheets with a rose between my teeth. Leak your devotion all over my best shirt on Mondays my love, come apart in my hands, melt into a silky hot drink for me to guzzle. Beat like a drum for me only, my ever-marching accomplice, you complete me. Let me crawl into you and take solace there I’ll eat you from the inside out, melt your walls down with my hands and leave no residue.