Circe’s mercy — Witch’s itches — Schooled gore
I have not been myself of late. Coarse brute
force. Love-smudge. I want your sludge. I want more
of you — I am root’s charm. I am charm’s root.
Charm of carnage. Charm of harm. Kissing grim
under the tongue. That heavy green honey,
like from Delphi. I am not I. “Yes ch’em
yes.” No amber witness, royal jelly,
stone’s groan. Just plump rump. Itch that made Circe
moan, my mother of all craft. Does my sleaze
please? I am the other; all that you shan’t
have, but want. Toxic nectar, all dusky.
All for you. With luck we will fuck. We’ll squeeze
pleasure dry. Poison’s fun. Sibylline’s rant.
“Ես չեմ ես” (Yes ch’em yes) is simply, “I am not I.” I am fascinated with the phrase in Spanish, “Yo no soy yo.” However, Armenian is the language spoken by Lot’s daughters in lust so I use that here.