"Sometimes I think my cock is the tongue of some god, who
wants to say things you could never listen to in words,
because you'll just die.
And that my tongue is really what my cock is trying to be,
it keeps butting up against everything.
Trying to get into everything, to end it, to come.
I think my cock, that's the god's tongue,
might just want to eat the rest of me.
And my tongue that's secretly a cock,
is what it uses to scrape me off.
I laid in the dark last night, talking and fucking.
This morning I'm hooked over my bones
like bait or a dead prayer.
If you were a god and you wanted to fuck or eat something,
would you just jump on top?
Wouldn't that be too easy?
There's not much you can't heal, if you talk about it.
Imagine all the little kids that are going nuts in their beds,
trying to get their tongues onto their cocks or in their cunts.
All the coiled backbones crackling like dead leaves.
Has anyone ever cried, help, and it came?"