The oxygen tank follows John down the hospital tunnel a seahorse engaged to his lover, the lover leans in ~
the same seahorse near to him during his days on the streets chashing whores. His hands behind his back eyes downcast, women and men unable to resist his thinness, his scent.
Sometimes John feels like a tear on the cracked skin of his mama's face, slipping in and out of crevices, his sensitive skin burning purple. His dad was right "you are a sissy, who'll die a thousand times a day."
...to penetrated by a dark myth and leave it and you empty...*
I try to blow you out of my mind
but my mind keeps replaying the way my skin feels under your punishment how the pain lingers and turns into something I look forward to my tongue tied in knots to match the velvet ties capturing my wrists
I try to blow you out of my heart
yet my heart beats full of your obsession and the private school you started in me i recite "i love you and you only" til my tongue is dry and you are sated, ...