The night is round and black, like your throat just
as you gag me down whole. You squirm, settle
your rump on my face. Slow grind as I thrust
my tongue deeper. Hell is straight boy coital,
but as I pull out concerned you gasp: “More!”
For years we put the one in lonely; now,
somehow, we’re two … even if you once swore
how all my kind made you spew. Cum is how
we cure hate. 6-2-9. We’ve got this licked
while I suck the good parts of your soul out.
I prayed for a lover and then you came.
Now we cum. They say that nothing’s perfect,
but this? So damn good. That’s what I’m about
with you: to heal from lives of scorn and shame.