A relationship with the body, of bodies. Of bodies being held throughout the night, for heat. For warmth, for sex, for drugs. Countless bodies abandoned with the light of day, when the first crisp morning air cracks across the skin, under the nose.
Hundreds, thousand of bodies crawling to get away from themselves, from each other, from the stink of hairs pressed close. A sea of writhing bodies on concrete just trying to get away, pale flesh ugly flesh, even the black ones.
This is what I see in your eyes and your mouth, when you move your mouth against mine this is what I feel even though I can’t see your flesh mouth any longer. This is what I feel, the corners of the elbows pressing against someone’s hip, the hard flesh of a prick prying itself into a dry cunt. This is what I feel when you smile and all your teeth hang out, glare.
Rape, a raping of my flesh by the sight, the scent of your pressing.
When you hold my head down between your thighs, in the middle of the night trying to please yourself in my gasp, what are you thinking? Do you see our child running wild in the playgrounds? Do you see our daughter walking down the aisle with a handsome doctor, lawyer? Do you see a life for child in the midst of this, in the midst of your thighs gyrating against my teeth, in my scream?
Strung out cunt can’t you see I’m infected, I’m diseased, or do the sores on my arms look like those cool tattoos that the younger generation wears today?
Cunt and tooth they had called us. Cunt and tooth that which lied in the gutter for sun and the rain. And it was the cuntooth nailed to my door that left us out in the cold, out with needles for partners and sex as another possibility to get wasted to get trashed onto the side of curbs, our mouths cracked open over gutters.