madDelight

    I saw you praying, in Jerusalem, your hands against the great wall and sulphur and bile in your breath I saw [you], clutching your chaplet and selling your soul to high heavens and dusty voices clad in purple for absolution and love.    Just a little chunk of it, Father, just a bite. Because we are all his children, said the old man. And he patted your head and his palm was rough from carressing only bibles and the pew. Oh sound bells, and open, golden gates and arms and thighs and give me this warmth I seek, you old asshole. Uphold your end of the bargain, old crook, you said, but your god is a horse dealer. You god doesn't care for

                      ♠ A part of me wants you to be jack of cards,                            So I could forever be your queen,                              And duty would bind you to my side. ♠

They lied to you, they  lied  to you! it's not glitter and rainbows and nails tearing the sheets and quickfire orgasm like ak-47 shots in your skull It's not dynamite in your stomach and fireworks and nuclar explosions and white behind your eyelids. It's not a meadow, covered with cosmo flowers and most sacred places and greek temples. It's not apollo 11 that stand before you, all throbbing and red and tall like a mountain, firing up towards the skies. It's wet, sweaty and sounds like flaps of hot plastic against concrete. It's akwards gestures in halfmast darkness and fumbling zippers and clothes that won't fall  (for god's sake)  like