Magic lies in sodomy, you’ll find out
after babysitting. Brute! you laugh in
the back seat. Windows fog. I pause, about
to push in. This is rough vulgar Latin.
It’s what the ancients praised. It’s what your dad
declared sin. Like Sappho, we’re misquoted
and bi as fuck. I’ve sucked your sublime, mad
for your feral flow. You’ve deep-throated
my tusk, slathered up this load-bearing shaft.
After prom we were all claws and cogs. Brute!
you called me; your cum, my root. Now I pause.
Magic is dark, savage. Last time you laughed
at my witchcraft. Now? Deep, you say. Your root,
your tusk, I want to love this. Give me cause.