Be You in Your Sensual Splendor

Oh God
sometimes I fake “ok”
so well
it scares me.
Im all smiles and
foreplay phrases at the table
then sitting on restaurant toilets,
spinning panicked breaths
and craving a dark watery hole
to scuttle back into.

Why couldn’t I just
be me and
be done with it?
The pressure around and within
howls me to sleep
with rhapsodies
of acting normal
in a fucked up world
which is a goddamn laugh
but still has me
chained to the lamplight
beside my bed
practicing odes
of pretending
which makes me so angry
I felt the hot breath
of the dragon inside
snort and sputter.

We are made
to be messy and
irreverently more
ourselves in each moment
during these times
of the capitalist pig
and the boar
that knocks down
the door
demanding production
and sleek slime sublime stupors
that keep us under steel-toed boots.

We can speak up.
We have the power.
Shout it out loud
and be heard by the angels and
some of us beings on earth
do crave you to be
exactly and magically

in all your sensual splendor.

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