I stand still
holding my breath
as you tear apart my binder
unlocking the hooks
telling a story
of my creation as woman
unraveling what gives life
to the just-born.
You suck buttons on my chest
though aching with thirst.
Life taken in
cleansing your soul.
I wince. . . .
The scene:
a man, single-edge blade
on the bathroom counter.
I wince again
lying of reality
faking
escalation of breath
faking.
Hands slither, slowly, gently
around my body.
A hand dropping to a band
pulling down,
pulling the man
taking it away.
I wince. . . .
The scene:
an arm, asterisk engraved
2 a.m. in the morning.
I wince again
lying of reality
floating to nirvana.
Woman
chant the muses
as my maleness is lost
as I let mind go
surrendering my body
to Eros.