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God is a Dyke

I relinquish my sanity

For my mind is as sick as hot caramel glistening under lasers and smoke machines

Fevered perspiration speckled like blue glitter and hedonistic desire

Iridescent like my shame


I cannot dissipate these thoughts

Wondering how connecting our lips would be like falling into an endless pool

Devoid of drowning

With her mouth, mocha and soft like talcum

With her eyes, mahogany, dark and disorienting

With her eyes, peering into the foetus that is my soul

With every beautiful curl, wild in its artistry


I can bring myself to ecstasy -


Riding the currents of her imaginary presence

Tracing every curve and indent of her body with my memory

If this is God

She’d wear a white, tank top and a gold chain


The moon and mountains laugh their big, hyena laugh

The clouds shrug in passivity

As they watch her scoop me up with short, unpolished nails and toss me into the abyss

I can’t help but stare open-mouthed and starry-eyed

The cosmos reflected

As I witness life

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