***

an androgynous boy
woke up
in the morning.

…a morning
resembling…

eleven pm.

there was
no reflection,
there was
only whoring.
…
he read
many novels
by Poppy Brite
then.

gays and vampires
haunting young minds.

they captivated,
inspired to
scream.

long, soft, pale
fingers

tightly entwined
with the hard flesh –
it was all
in his scheme.
(just let them drown
in natural cream)

he masturbated
to
loss of reaction.

moaning and groaning
the melody –
lust.

blood
enveloped
the scene
into
action.

harder and harder,
engaging the thrusts.

as if
someone
else,
to merge
into one -

silence devoured
by
wish and desire

…threshold
of delight,

breathing to come…

wanking
till
languor,

till
even death
tired.