“Damn. Lost in a forest with Pan.” That’s what
my big splashy mouth on your misfit clit,
nihilist cunt, felt like, you grunt: “Glut of smut.”
For hours I devoured; leaving you unfit
to drive. Your car slowed on the mountain road
while your son slept in the backseat. “Pregnant
and in middle school?” Even your scowl glowed.
“Homeless a month later.” With your silent
O and shayla undone you act as if
no one in Lebanon had ever been
finger fuck’d before. The divine appear
at odd times; parked on the side of a cliff
near Mount Sannine it spoke through you. No sin
or remorse; just faith found in your cum smear.
Shayla is a long, rectangular scarf popular with women in the Gulf region. It’s wrapped around the head and pinned in place at the shoulders. Mount Sannine is the highest peak in Lebanon.