SUNDAY EVENING...

Here are some things I knew, but wasn't too eager to believe:

I am a bottom.
I love to top,
but give me a Goat and I'm toast.
Right now?
Above all else,
I want a Goat.

I love restraint.
I love to put it to others,
but restrain me and I'm yours.
Right now?
Above all else,
I want to be subjected to unyielding force.

I'm everything your mother warned you about, a really dirty old man,
and a complete cream-puff, a round-heeled slut. All at the same time.

Lock up your sons just to be on the safe side.
I am the Mighty Faggot.
Hear me roar.

This is going to be one hell of a ride...

The things we know, revealed to us in flesh
Are then engraved in flesh for us to see.
Long prophesied, that baby in the creche
Bears wounds to show us what our flesh will be.

Who prophesies our truth? Our own unwitting
Ways and wandering steps, which make too clear
What we bear deep within us as the spitting
Image of our longing and our fear.

Yet to us, even our acknowledged truth
Is alien, overpowering when revealed
In flesh; we cringe before its claw and tooth,
Which leave deep wounds, wounds none too quickly healed.

If we could live in truth, and know the price
Our flesh would bless our love, so bless us twice.
.