Orgasm


I was enjoying my tea.
Then you rasped my throat,
razor-blade-mint-leaves tongue.

My breath is fresh
like mold.

My bile, I'll be here for a while
growing hair under my nails.

Fermented emotions
pouring on my glass,
you're nauseously drunk,
there is no turning back.
Inebriation with my fingers
inside of your flesh,
anesthesia of sensations,
sweat perforates your chest.

You tear my humanity,
I tear your skin.

We grow ants infestations
as our home atop.
The circle must
never stop.

2 comments:

Du said...

nice, very nice indeed. =)

Duwwie.

Raffaella Ciavatta said...

Thank you Duwwie = )

 


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