- Latin -
witness [of virility]
is a portrait of
the sex, and the humanity
of a man in one
Your virility buzzes
like a timer unreleased.
A biting, thrusting
I think that it may be possible
to love a man
for who he is with his sex.
One may love the animalistic
lover, or the agamous intelligent,
neither coexist simultaneously
in the fluid motion
of love making.
We move like oceans through each other -
underneath breasts, hands balloon
together. I can feel every part
then, we are face to face,
pulling through clothes
puddled in the doorway…
I read once that if you
hum with your boyfriends
penis in your mouth
he'll tense with unexpected
When I was ten my father taught me how to flip the bird correctly -
bend the index,
and ring finger half way down
and let your middle finger rise as thin,
and long as it can.
He instructs me that those fingers act as the henchmen.
Many years later I realize
what male organ I am
forming in anger.
I like the feel of it in my hands,
the leathery tenacity of it -
it is beautiful to me, in much the same
way the cave-like vagina is romanticized
Palpitating gonads work overtime
[as gods] to create enough sperm to
impress ovum's into creation;
biology is less adventurous then religion.
Seminiferous equilibrium, and
pathways of DNA inheritance crowning.
The fact that humanity fertilizes one
is more too stomach then: [God creates man] though,
humanity creates god
and sex begot humanity.