|
|
Replying to a comment on:
Cunt (Free verse) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
I cannot number the times you've cut me off,
choked me out, rubbed me raw, drained me.
Stench, stinking up my view like a thousand
flipped turtles on a stretch of prehistoric sand.
I'd bury you to dig you back up like a dog, later
Consuming you from your ass until your teeth.
My spent seed gumming up a future in you
Worshipped, your insight smells of old blood.
The way it sticks around like an uninvited cousin
Waiting for another monthly opportunity to breed.
Casting men up mountains to moan
alone with one another under hood.
|