“You calmly hushed me,
taking away my barbarous ways.”
— Bunny Keiko (2005)
Bunny Keiko and her “mystical fuck”
reminds me of “The Woman Who Married
A Ghost Boy.” A widow became moonstruck
with a fey boy’s ghost. All ghosts need to feed
but what good is mother’s milk to the dead?
He hoped to please her, as any lover
would try; but he died a virgin, unfed
and lost and wasn’t much good with pleasure,
giving or taking. They didn’t despair,
though, with his wet hand prints in her panties,
her big ass, her small toes; she loved going
down on him, hard. Which is why their affair
makes me smile and reminds me of Bunny’s
poem on love and mystical fucking.
Passing through the door, I drift nearby you,
spoon your sleeping body. I love your queer
hunger. You said your mother was Zulu,
taught you how to wield a boar-hunting spear.
“But there’s more than one way to catch a boar,”
you said, sucking my cock deep down your throat.
You were my babysitter, took much more
than my virginity that night. “Devote
your soul to pleasure, call upon shadows
to be your lovers,” you instructed me
as I, on my tip toes, released rainbows
deep in your cunt and across your belly.
Playing with death, you said, “cum in my bum.”
You said, “dead boy cum, I love dead boy cum.”