- Non-Erotic Poetry
- whipped
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a sharp stinging
mid-cerebral, no more
conjures shut out '...one times'...
its all coming back,
a fast flood of ignorance
and trust
lost
but always returning,
sooner or later
all it takes now
is a hint of chanel
or some soft floral smell
those internal gears
grinding me up like
hamburger
those long nails
leaving day-long scars
across my back
its not pain that
brings me to my knees
completely crystal clear to me
but too late
if i keep insisting that
i am gay,
maybe it will go away
and i'll not forget that
stinging whip too soon
again.
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