Closer to God.

You don’t creep into my dreams like other men do. You appear like a phantom on an ordinary night and wrap words around my eyes like a blindfold. You overtake me.

I'm lying in some relative state of peace, worrying about bills or Freud, or some piece of my personal history that becomes irrelevant when your words appear on my screen, beckoning me out of bed.

I am unraveled by the thought of you. Naked at my core and suddenly hollow, waiting for you to defile me.

I recently told you that I am done with definitions. Dominant, innocent, bisexual, whatever. As you put it, we are only sexual. We breathe this way. It drives our good and our bad, our every silent scream. Every vibration is sensual.

I tell you that sometimes, I am the master of everything. The director. Sometimes I'm the voyeur. I can follow an energy, or guide it. I am not one person in the darkness.

With you, I am animal. I am only sex and craving. I scratch my nails down your back and stab them into myself all at once. I feel like a prisoner in your church. Like you take pleasure in corrupting me, fucking me everywhere. In my words and at my core. My reins are gone. My routine is gone. You make me feel like a student of your body. Of sickness.

I tell you I can't see you tonight. I am resting for work, recovering from ailments. You torment me. You tell me you hope that my every thought is tainted by your cock and that I taste you inside my mind.

I try to sleep and drink coffee and write and you are fucking me into a wired oblivion of brain waves.

I hate you. Really, I do. But I know that I also harrow your thoughts. There is comfort in that as you tear at the seams of my mind.

I think of you knowing me younger, purer, not sure what I wanted from my body. The image that lures you in and haunts you. The image you wish to darken while you fuck me. But that’s not what holds you here, or what makes you beg. Instead, I hold you at the tip of my tongue with the poison I hadn't discovered back then, that I only thought about in the silence, when I imagined you in the dark.

I like to think of you watching me then. Ashamed of wanting something so small and pure. Or is it that you saw the darkness? That you wanted to enter it, pervade it, sink into it so deep that neither of us would ever return to the torment of daylight?

I’ll never know. But I know I hold you now and I’m waiting to see you again. I dream you will kidnap me. That we suck the humanness from each other and be beasts and flesh.