Suffered. Cheated. Mistreated. Nothing born

in a hothouse. A night-blooming pervert.

All-night pain’s blast furnace. Suck your forlorn

thumb just to keep quiet. “Southern Comfort/

hard fuck skag,” you sang; like Joan and Janis,

Bessie and Billie. Your song drips hot wax,

pelvis-jarring buckings. What is a kiss

compared to this pain? Synapses climax.

You cum all the time. Quietly. Your thumb

in your mouth. Buckings. Let it burn. Let it

burn. “If I can’t/ love myself let it/ burn.”

The sky crackles goes out. Shadow. Sodom.

Dance. Shake the bone-rattle, petite misfit.

Debauchee aslant. Singer of nocturnes.