There was a time and a place
orgasms corrode my socially imposed moral framework
sweaty palms flood with mourning for our dead
hook ups, fuck fests, fuck buddys and wasted space
A dream, a lust for a lost sense of genuine connection
lust for the lost
lost in a furious series of gained…and lost erections
No dreams of a relationship or the symbolic, snake like shackles of marriage
I simply want an attitude, a respect, a mutual human love, when our bodies collide
That we are all people, with very diverse dreams, desires like planets colliding, our own orbits
and when we two, or three or four or five should collide
We shall be more than objects for the sexual pleasure of another, but consensual, consenting beings.
We are all dreamers, singers, sluts
Fighting, freaking, fucking for our understanding of our position
within this insane house/hotel room/the universe and our own volition
Fascist Mental Forces fill our fuck sessions with subconscious, severe, serpentine, slut-shaming guilt
The insecurities of the insecure, the pious, the cruel force otherwise decent people to cry “slut!”
Inequality infects and makes ignominious all attempts at truly equal love.
Consent disregarded in a rape culture that values competition over basic dignity
One sided sexual mores bind our eyes, our genitals, or minds.
Never let the hand you hold, hold you down.
Dont let the pimps of Christ make you feel like a prostitute.
Dont let the fuckers grind you down.
