Make Me

♦ I wrote this yesterday in a sleep-starved buzz of ideas on a sunlit train back from the North. I hope you like it, because it makes me seriously goddamn wet… ♦

By the stream that was once a river there is a dell where you will find me.

Where you will find me and make me…

And make me…

I will bite down on a fallen branch and press my face into the moss
and you will take me.

And the bark in my hair and the bites on my skin will be reminders.

And the scrapes on my knees and the welts on my thighs
will be my trophies.

The air will hum with screams that break through silence
and the minutes will last for years.

The sun will beat down as you beat down and I…

I will exult in having you make me.

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