Dead Saint of Clits and Tits, Lady of Rent Boys Cocks and Ass, nude photos, oddly mine, poem, Poetry, selfie, sonnet
When at my lip’s breath and keys you photo
deaths and entryways. My zodiac’s blood.
Bleed my dim oxen. I find nakedness,
oddly mine, divine. After a hundred
undone eyes I was curious what you
could see. But my body isn’t a prayer
song for the dead. Make much of me, undo
combustion, the hooks of my tongue, stop-blur
jerks of my limb. Swallowed hard burn captured
in your flash. In-between silence and noise
sleeps what can’t be explained; even 8-bits
had no word for it, save what you conjured
in me. I am your Lady of Rent Boys,
Cocks and Ass; Holy Bull of Clits and Tits.