Ruled by clitoris

 
Blissful vibrations ringing from lips
Hypnotize the hypothalamus
Pulses skip, impulses are drawn out
Altering the hippocampus.
If this isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.

This concoction is often served to a simp,
A pill on his tongue is part of the process.
Her body is used to disguise it; it’s on his media posts,
Posted up in his office, in his advertisements—pick a corner, it’s slung in.

Some give their life force to bask in its symphonics,
Trade their lifespans for debts, then throw notes at her phalanges—
Not even for a concrete chance or a promise, just the hope alone
Is selling out like hotcakes.

Drug dealers in eyelashes and cotton
Have your son on a leash, they’ve got your father in bondage.
In order to break free, they have to escape their conscience.