erotic poem, freakshow, horse cock, last act, New Orleans Centaur Show, Poetry, sonnet, your cunt's soul-gate
Snatches of dream: horse cocks and long grayling
men, scents of blackcurrant and pheromones.
I dreamed that you drove to the Gulf, searching
for the best beast to fuck. I run with Crones,
Maids and Mothers, with smut, skin flicks and sleaze.
I dreamed of a red thread leading to you —
freak thread. Like all beasts, I cum in furies.
I hunt for your cunt. In dreams I pass through
your cunt’s soul-gate, as consorts do. To ache
with you, with ruin, with greed. Obsessed
with need, with how my cum-splatters flow
over your breasts. Come and find me and wake
me and fuck me like a freakshow conquest.
Last act at the New Orleans Centaur Show.