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ode to that disobedient urge
buy me a vibrator that never runs out of battery & show me a desire that can sit in one place like a dog if masturbating while looking at a cottonwood tree is not sexualizing nature then why am i cumming again and again the batteries losing their steam i made a mistake in opening a space for desire before i found real space to place my desire inside of and o how this desire is lasting and o how i cannot be rid of it and what a lie to say i want to be rid of it at all even if masturbating for the third time when i cum i say i’m so fucked up / what’s wrong with me but desire or pleasure (their on-going intermingling) asks again and again for me to sit like a dog to sit with the desire for pleasure to not let that voice tell me i’m so fucked for wanting i’m so fucked up in this fluidity outside the cottonwood glistens and sways in the afternoon sun reaching for the batteries it occurs that the vibrator may slowly be breaking it occurs that my desire may be more vast than my discipline more vast than my control or my reason my vibrator glistening on the bedside table i am one of those dogs running through grass hair swaying in the wind & discipline is not my name |
