the squishy balloon

Get the hell off of my cherry!
What? What?
You must have misunderstood me…
Passion, art, fetish, fancy, all consenting.
What? I’m no better than a thief?
(you caught me peaking, so I’m the dirty one?)
I won’t run, or let you alone,
(un-protective) of your moonstone.
Oh, I just want to see you blow:
Blow blue, blue orange, blow cherry.
Soft skin wrapped in desperation
Fie! Around that squishy balloon -
Pure, silky, pale - Until it blows!
Red, blood-red, and the blood-red drapes.
In the House of Fidelity
In the flat of the burglary -
And on the sheets!
Inhale, exhale, and deep panting:
Blow in and blow out, up and down,
Work with it and it’s expanding...
like it’s elastic. But the skin...
And when it blows we will all go,
Come together, as though we’re one.
We’re done, we rest easy
(exhaling smoke seductively).
The skin remains in misery,
A scarlet stigmatized wretch,
Too far gone to contract -
Consent after consent,
Contract! God dammit,
The skin remains a wench.