God hates it

when I bathe in holy water

while I touch myself

down there.

My legs spread as wide as the gates of hell,

lips open wide enough

to suck on the devil’s horns,

eyebrows crinkle together as close as

his sinful soul is to mine.

God cringes knowing

I’m almost finished.

He watches as I cup my breasts

with pleasure.

You see, most men

enjoy this sight

but God,

God turns away.

It is because he’s homosexual?

Maybe,

but I’ve been told that

God hates fags.

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The Room

You stumble into a pitch black room.

The room smells of lilac,

like the flowers your grandmother used to grow.

You close your eyes and all you can see is a purple ocean

with purple fish and purple sand and purple waves.

A hand touches your back,

the gentle human touch you’ve longed for.

Most touches feel thoughtless and cold

but this touch is warm, real.

No words are spoken but you and this person understand

that you’re both only human,

its not much more complicated than that.

Stranger takes your hand to dance,

and the two of you make music

with the syncopation of your souls.

But since your both only human,

stranger has to go and so do you.

You walk out of the black room that smells like lilac

and go back into the world with different colors.

You go back home to your fourth floor apartment,

you reveal your naked body, vulnerable

you slip under your bed sheets.

You close your eyes. Its pitch black.

It smells like lilac.

A hand touches your back.