confessions of a cocksucker

copernicus got it half right- the world revolves around dick.

i’m armed with a tongue that i stole from my mother who has her mother’s tongue. i talk down your shaft, trace letters on your balls, say i love you mid-choke, and hold you by my throat.

a single tear rolls down my cheek, over my lip, and mixes with the lover’s spit trailing down the pelvic bone.

i’m undoing a knot. there's the stories your foolish mother told you, blooming in your lap. your pulse is in my mouth, your heart is between my teeth. go home and tell her a dick is just a clit. or a clit is just a dick.

i’m holding you down as your back arches, one hand slips under your waist, the other reaches for your tit. you're whimpering, and we're thinking the same thing. but i’m not done with you yet. our eyes locked.

i come back up and we hold each other by the neck, joined at the forehead. we breathe each other in, and you lean in to taste yourself, lingering on my tongue. you crash.

i like how you sit, thighs split open, full flesh dangling from the bone. like comfort could be an invitation. like i should make myself at home. like i should make myself in between.

the cocksucker is hungry, and you're splayed out on the table, like jesus on the cross- demure, mindful, and at my mercy.

this is about me, not you. this is the only way you'll listen.

i take you to the edge, and reel you back in. over and over, i stuff death’s cock in your mouth and pull out before you can taste her. i show you the way without the end. meet purgatory. meet waiting. meet the endless arrival of grace. i want to thank you for coming. but i’m too shy so i’ll make you thank me for letting you come instead.

i’m twisted baby, i’m orbitting your waist, tracing the shape of infinity, the way you'd spin the pen between your fingers in class. i could do this forever, can't you see?