I Was Thinking About

A. Deweese

your penis and how
I'd peel the strips of mottled flesh

each oh-so-satisfying length
pulling away light

and soft as cloud 
down the spongy shaft. To take

and taste the curved pillar now
exposed with pink

tongue would surely
be a most natural thing to do.

But I'd rather enjoy you sliced and 
drowning in my milk,

a sweetsmooth
pairing with the crunch of grainy

bones between my gnashing 
splintered teeth.

Issue 1 : Fall, 2016