Seeing someone every day
is not seeing them,
not in the way of knowing
ourselves, marked by a milestone on a rocky trail
or a spring growing back with azaleas and pollen
and a canopy of elms.

Instead the confetti of moments we’ve traveled together
whirl into the patternless vortex of now
and we don’t know where we find ourselves.
  
Yet I thought of you the other day
and a painting you gave to me when we first loved.
It showed a man diving into the ocean toward mermaids
Who sat on an island, watching.

Next to the image were words from a Jerry Butler song,
“Isle of the Sirens,” about a ship’s crewman lured by temptation.  
"The voices got louder
They sing beautiful things in my ear
I must go to that island of women
I must see these creatures I hear
Love is blind and desires have no fear."
The captain warns him that surrendering
to the siren song is a betrayal.
"Keep course, cried the Captain
Ignore them and let them be
Straight ahead, cried the Captain
Set on by and stay free
Remember laws of mutiny"
The man jumps anyway.
"'Old man, you know nothing
Of temptation
And desires are heaven to me.'
And off he leaped into the sea."

When you showed this to me, at first I thought I
was the man, giving in to temptation.
Only later did I understand that you were the man,
A black woman hearing a siren song
from a white man who lured her with desire and love.
We know the fate of those who leap at the sirens’ lure.
You broke the laws of mutiny.  

Something in my daily cogito has kept this memory close,
reminds me that you leapt
And you’re still here.

Here we are now, in the time of COVID-19,
alone together, shut out of the world,
sleeping in each other’s shadow
bored by each other’s demons,
walking past the blank of each other’s  mirrors.
But I still hear that song.  
Can you still hear it, love?  
Would you still make the leap?

There's a saying
if you want a *** life dont get married

Back in the day wealthy men had courtesans for pleasure
concubines for quick *** and marriage were about land, labor and the forging of kindship for galvanizing power among tribes and feudal clans

Folks knew better than to have *** with only one person for a lifetime, like that was gonna work

Since contemporaneous studies show that *** among married people often becomes voided at least in part except for *******,
you know, when he sits up and begs and she plays dead

Aside from cheating just to remain sane, today we are going with computers who are our concubines, made internet ******* our mistress
and technology the replacement for human intimacy

I think of guys like Harvey Weinstein, not that I condone his actions and for that matter *** trafficking, both abhorrent.
Do I need to say it?

The problem is that they both along with **** remain symptomatic of a systemic relentless ****** deprivation, that feels like a slow suffocation to many. We outlaw every form of *** and the pure ecstasy of lust either overtly or subliminally that isn't either in marriage, a serious relationship or at least the appearance of one for ***** sake.

Bill Gates among other public notables has been reported to have had acquaintance with Epstein. This game changer businessman looked understandably horrified at any inference of involvement with this notorious slime of course or his infamous ****** Island.

What's more fascistic than circumscribing ****** behavior to such an extreme that people are utterly alienated by their most intimate and sacred desires and feel forced into criminality irrespective of the grave penalties. I'm not blaming anybody persa but why is it any stupider, than the express product of histories 2000-year weave of sensual and ****** disenfranchisement than not getting vaccinated so we dont end up killing our friends, family, and ourselves or thinking Trump is the second coming of the Golden Sun God.

Many of us treat the impulse of desire like its temporary insanity and just wana hurry up and get over with, like wiping filth under the carpet.   

As a society we are still victims of medieval thinking for all our apparent progress, unable to integrate the primal and social without tripping over our own shoelaces and each other's.

The way to a man's heart is not through his stomach
Make the bedroom an alter to Venus
then just go out for dinner.

"roses are red
ice-cream is cold
take off your cloths
and do what your told"

All I know is that I'm 74 and I still haven't had my first period

while being a man eater
she preferred
to be eaten
like a ***** bride for a vampyre

cleanse us from all unrighteousness

she liked her ****
bruised as beaten apples
with scorched *******
perforated with the needles
still glimmering in her areolas
oozing small rivulets of blood
as if alters to a weird mythic Jesus

do unto others

she spread her haunches wide
and knelt in supplication
her **** and glistening **** presented
for the scythe and whipping slick ******

let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace

she imagined
her body like a dirigible
exploding in mid air
her hands caressed her lush *****
with rabid fingers
like a woodpecker on amphetamines
girding an unlocked cage
of wet smeared lips

for this is my blood of the covenant

her **** drooled
as if a thousand baby tongues
dripped for a teasing tickling blade
knotty hung ***** and sagging *****
on the way to a glorious ascension

hard is the path to God

her life more dissolute
than *** **** videos
a rich lady languishing
with a growling animal inside her
and gold enough for life
but not too rich to bleed
extravagant tears of flaming petals
while licking devils *****  
and being eaten and ******
from ******* to gut
in a bottomless rusty bathtub
by a pantheon of fiends

come now, let us reason together, shes a horney *****

in her own rem noir dark city
of obsidian dreams
she woke up happy as a jitterbug
and full of grace
her cunty fingers tasted extra ******
and slippery as melted butter

beware

watch out for the boiling red eye
and the hillbilly keep out sign

i wont hurt you babe
but i'm no lady boy