dominicvineoftheowls (dominicvine) wrote,


Each man kills the thing he loves
da da da

When i was just a boy
Younger then than this mix of man/woman and child i am now
i wanted to be a sailor

blessed of the high seas
of solitude
and cold winds

Faggot lover of Querelle
a million lovers around the world
never needing to even make an excuse why i wasn't staying
all the while
desiring the cold hard love of death and being taken
the strength of passivity
the knowledge of a true friend

given up all
and set out to sea

to know a husband is just a story to me
but i sit in that nest now

daily gifts
calling him "baby"
hallmark relationship

one man to another
neither of them me

but with my prick poised at the gate of his body
head just under that shelf of softness
the pause gave me time to understand
i would never take that from a lover

no feeling of lust is worth it

and i could get off
my cock pressed firmly into his root
the pulsing and the heat
the connection
just not the moistness

though i know i could enjoy that
as the perpetrator
he lacked the shock and wave of having me inside him
but he could still feel my heat radiating through him

soft pale milk flowed
covered in oil and sweat

satisfaction just the same

a week with no love making
ended after a sweat
with thunder bear

no feeling of entrance
just the wrapt tight embrace
bodies building sweat
swimming into eachother
the breaths louder and gasping
shuddering in to him

to go out and piss under the blaring full moon

poor boy trying to sleep next to us

i know what pain that feels like

the sweet sorrow of isolation

in presance

Each man kills the thing he loves
Each man kills the thing he loves
da da da

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