Golgotha

I thought
'this must be
what fucking Jesus Christ
is like'

your hips slamming into the thickness
of my thighs
gasps unwillingly escaping
my lips
like little breathless prayers
to dieing saints

my fingers nestled in that crown
of flesh
teeth in my shoulder
I'm searching for
just the right feeling

just the right spot
for a holy vision
and black lights
sparkling before my face

your cheek pressed against mine
leaden breath
ragged in my ear
your fingertips dug
into the meat of my ass
I saw God
in your heavy eyes

your hardened flesh
the spear
little deaths all inside me
little resurrections with each
shuddering thrust

I can almost see your halo
a shining aura of golden light
your lips at my breast
trying to find how deep I go
this holy well
this fount of wicked blood

my tongue so nimble
it utters your secret name
as it wraps around you
snake that I am
with great curled horns
burden of knowledge

I can make you come
for eternity
and feel just how awful
goodness always is

Lips as Red as Blood

my thighs are slick in a rush of blood
crimson thickness is running down my legs
past my knees
pooling at my ankles

it's filling up my mouth
when I part my lips
I can only speak in burbles
and spit the ground all red

the dirt drinks me deep
filling up the cracks in the landscape
my femininity dripping
a trail of jeweled droplets to his door

he can never understand my comfort
in the drips left behind on the white tiles
as I slip from the kitchen to the bedroom
seeking lips to kiss only hard

he cringes in the face of the female rigor
that stiffens my belly
with unkempt want and forgetful desire
he does not understand what it means to bleed

to bleed with no blooming wound
to sit folded in on your self
with fingers tipped in blood
and eyes heavy in unfocused thought

the ground is thirsty for me
the moon tugging at my white dress
slowly turning crimson in the fading night
as he twists nervously at the door

he is goose stepping around my trail
gingerly picking his way to a clean spot
he quivers, 'I can feel the red tide of you slamming into me
even with my back turned'

I whisper through lips as vermilion as blood
'then never turn your back on me
and you will never have to know the nightmares
I have been saving especially for you
never turn your back on me
and I will not come howling for you in the night.'

I take my white dress and crimson flowers
blooming all over the room
and fly up to the ceiling
grasping only shining bloodied kisses

I leave trails of garnet on his face
I tug at his hair
I weave in and out and in again
dipping my red fingerprints down his back

and when the night cries in staining tears
the patches he is unable to bleach away
he will remember me all in white
and know what it is to be wanted in only a hard red way