Circe’s mercy — Witch’s itches — Schooled gore

I have not been myself of late. Coarse brute

force. Love-smudge. I want your sludge. I want more

of you — I am root’s charm. I am charm’s root.

Charm of carnage. Charm of harm. Kissing grim

under the tongue. That heavy green honey,

like from Delphi. I am not I. “Yes ch’em

yes.” No amber witness, royal jelly,

stone’s groan. Just plump rump. Itch that made Circe

moan, my mother of all craft. Does my sleaze

please? I am the other; all that you shan’t

have, but want. Toxic nectar, all dusky.

All for you. With luck we will fuck. We’ll squeeze

pleasure dry. Poison’s fun. Sibylline’s rant.

][][

Note:

“Ես չեմ ես” (Yes ch’em yes) is simply, “I am not I.” I am fascinated with the phrase in Spanish, “Yo no soy yo.” However, Armenian is the language spoken by Lot’s daughters in lust so I use that here.