POEM - Becker Dr

Touch is my communion

Let us pray with penetration

Show me the good word

of your nude form,

as I remain forever ready

to receive you

I have no moral compass in the realm

of physicality that’s pleasurable

May your lips be bubblegum pink,

and taste like pussy

May your curves be a heartbeat dancing,

and feel like XXX sweat

May my voice be unhinged thunder,

and stir only where you’re guarded

I want no more of the simple surface

Let us make each other whole

  

There are no rules

if we don’t accept them

The rebellion in your eyes is radioactive

You look at me as though Oppenheimer

just slid his fingers inside you

Would you care to stare

at my chain reaction?

I promise to let it be

the mirror no one else will ever see

  

I’m no father figure

You’re no mother may I

Both of us are destined to die,

and the two of us are sharing dreams,

but are you willing to kill over in order

to let daylight hear you breathlessly ask,

“Is that good for you too, Daddy?”