Others, those you love, have done shit. Good shit.
They’ll be remembered. That’s good. You? Perhaps

not. No one knows your name. One more misfit
writing about vinyl, buckles and straps …

about times before we were cursed with what
got called virtue and Lilith, first to grieve,

fled from such vile disquiet. Before smut
became Her code. Now the daughters of Eve

call smut sin but what do ribs know about
liberation? More than us and our lust.

The world that they want has no place for this.
They’re so certain and I’m so full of doubt.

Lilith, if smut is cursed then smut is cursed.
Then so am I, your priestess, with cursed bliss.