I stand upon the cliff's edge,
Terror seduces my spine, I ride up into myself, skin tightening,
Imploding into a tough, leather pouch; flecked with blond hairs.
He says, 'Fear not!'
Should I take that step? Fall straight into his lustful abandon?
I would gain little sympathy from the bigots I have befriended.
The air around me grows suddenly cold.
It snaps and burns. It robs me of sound and smell.
She holds my hand, he beckons me.
Two loves, threaten to pull me asunder.
Two lusts and organs. Flesh and meat and hearts.
Taste of salty skin. A finger to suckle; a womb to invade.
Her eyes, sun beams on a warm summer's day of a long, forgotten youth.
His are like fire light; warm and dangerous; the most complicated simplicity.
I hear below a choir of children singing 'The Old Rugged Cross'.
I see light cresting heads, ancient halos.
The lust for innocence; the innocence of lust.
"Take my flesh. Submit. Whore!"
"Fill my empty spaces. Submit. Tramp!"
I can taste them now; the flavors mingle upon my tongue.
Black, ashy clouds boil overhead; looming ever closer.
The grey-black prow of God's battleship!
The thundering keel cutting waves of reality,
And full moon sails; white, salty, dreaming, devouring.
Is the age of Eros upon me? The time of the twins?
The cock and the hen and the rooster making eggs together.
They couldn't both me right. Why not?
I am a suckling, greedy infant drinking both tits!
My right hand knows good and well what the left is doing!
I have found myself. Should I tell you?
I step from the cliff. I drag her with me...