My sucking chest wound is a portal to inner lands of gooey organs in a landscape of red bones and sinew. I am an organ grinder, a liver tap dancer, a heart eater. My threats are real; I store them under my tongue to run against my teeth in times of dire need. I have sore spots in my cheeks where they rub to the point of agitation. I feel agitated every day running in tight circles around the interior of my mind. Wipe your feet before you come in here.
When this light hits me; when my eyes are momentarily blinded in its' bathing, I stare at the darkened faces of the audience looking for the whites of their eyes. I reflect this light off my skin and highlight it on each individual feature. In these moments I am a swaying goddess with my lips parted in the trembling ecstasy of the intellectual erotics. I am a glitter wound in the minds of the impartial parties to the indoor reign of this queen in bone corsets.
Come to my wounding; fall under my hand. Let me lace my fingers in your hair to wrench your head back to my mouth. I kiss like glass, running blood down your throat like a predatory lover. I want to be your worship; your skin kneading under my fingers, catch you in my teeth with little edges of happiness. Stand naked in front of me as I have stood naked in front of them; do you feel my eyes sliding over you? Can you feel it down in your nerve endings, dancing with a fevered pitch of unconscious pleasure? No one escapes my singular notice; my sweetest poisoned apple. I came here. I do not intend to leave.
Look up from my heart lined pocket, little glitter diamond, and be forever with me.
