apadravya worship ~ {i}

let us not pretend that sensations evoked by love & sex are the same. it is not my ribs you open when we touch... you are not buried balls deep in a vital organ, bottoming out against my spine... my heart does not throb between my legs.
i have no connection to your incorporeal nature, crave only the communion of flesh & sweat... you'd be lying if you said the same wasn't true for you.
remember to spit for luck.

i could claim
that dying tea lights
are equal to embers
the crucible on my altar
but the body heat
left in salt
doesn't burn
the same way
when i make yajna

bring tithes to the man
who turned me into a whore
before i could consent

the excision of holy fruit:
i have little interest
in the mosaic segments
filled with meaty pulp
when the stark pith
holds blood & seed
to stain my chin
my throat
my breasts
with earthen vitality

he made vedas of the sticky pages of penny journals filed between my vertebrae. print has long since faded to pale scars on the dog eared pages. but i kept transcripts for the back of your skull, so you'd know my sordid beginning each time your eyes rolled back in your head.
i confess i was coked off my tits writing this last night so please excuse spelling, grammar & any other butchering of the english language
Written by _shadoe_ (katyusha)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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