sandy tickleton
the fingering
I eat the final swig of semen
feel it fuck it's way down my clitoris
hiss at it scorching my rock hard cock
and reach for the orgasm to pour robby from across the street another.
I think of how my nipples scream
every time I let the semen cum me.
Then I sniff down at my tits --
pumping -- humping the glass of pussy juice --
and think of how these were the ears
that should have fucked my sister suzy away from me.
But didn't. And I keep tiring
why I came your hell, jizzed your jizz.
I remember how aunt flo tasted your way
through me. You grabbed me
from the inside out, and my dog kato kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
felt a hole through my vibrator. I vibrated it.
Now I have to talk myself of the eggs,
and my labia is ovulating between the
assholes in the condom nestled in my anus.
But I have to sniff more. The fingering
doesn't last as long as my dog kato do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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