Now the depths, dredged, have again settled themselves, here she is: terorista, amant de la mort, serpent god winding massive in the stygian clarity of deepest Quiddity. She, the willing knife, the eager bolverkr. She, the sickly ichor sticky in my veins, kept liquid, sleepy in the heat, deadbright eyes indifferent to existence. Reptile. The membrane thins thins thins, birth caul, silk veil slipping from the face of the deceased.
The revealed face of a dead god of a god a god a god like a doll, a hollow poppet, a glove. She is me. She is me is everything. Wound threadlike through every letter, your veins through my teeth, the grip on my spine. Forested black hand through my chest, fingers laced between my ribs, she is the tearing, she is tearing me.
It all folds back in and in and in, steepled fingers braiding themselves in terrified prayer, it’s been here. Abandoned chapel in swampland. Spiders in the corners, they whisper my story. It’s all one story. She, the hundred cold, tarry fingers slipping horribly, fuckdeliciouslyme, into every healing fracture, spreading me into infinite hot threads, pressure pushing me outward, pulling me apart. She tears me apart.
Cat’s cradle dripping messy burning nerves between her fingers, and I don’t want to fight, sloppy ragdoll. Fingerpuppet. The transmutation of agony, of ling-chi, she burns me into humming, brilliant ecstasy and I am the milk of the gods. Of god. Oh God. Oh fuck. oh fuck She’s god she fucks like god.
Dear God, it’s me and I am a child in your lap and she is the naked face, the cold, dead face of god getting fucked. Her granite cock, glacial, velvet Judas cradle splitting me, screaming whore of Babylon riding mindless. She is incredible in her perfection, guileless malevolence. You get it.
In this world, the thorned monstrousness I choke on, her wet veined fist a vice anchoring the back of my tongue, always drawing blood, stroked by my straining throat. In this world, here, I use you. In this world I suck you to the root to get closer to her, I, I choose to choke on you because I I I need to feed, feel her, the boot I lick clean of blood and broken teeth.
She rises tectonic from the root of me and I become a continuous thing, gagging on the salted length of you, pinioned, pierced all-through. Impaled cunt to crown, soul’s eyes rolled back, body greedy for ruin, I use you to fuck her. She uses you to fuck me, she spreads me like a wet red tree.
My twin, my sister, tormentor, hag, executioner. Is it rape if I’m dressed like this? If I’m begging you to stop, please, don’t, while I bounce her head off the wall, twice, again, again, desperate, rough, skirt shoved up, thighs crushing my hips, push the poker through her chest, penetrate, slowly, the wet snap of her sternum, of her control.
I hurt her over and over. I fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. I set the dogs on her, the monster, the animal, I breed her and feel her thicken inside me. Mine. She breaks every bone, thrashing, sucking me dry of the marrowfat MINE I’ll lick out of her mouth as she screams mine mine she’s mine she’s screaming. She won’t shut up. I lick her clean.
I wouldn’t even know how to let her out. I wouldn’t even know how to rearrange the labyrinth in such a way that she could escape. But I fucking feel/d her every time she wakes. Her bulk pressing up against the floor of the world, bones bent to their tension point, stretching against skin, hideous and hungry. Hungry. Mother is hungry. Existence is not benevolent and Mother is hungry.
She rushes me when I push myself through the boundaries, when I am molecular and barely strong enough to absorb her too-wide smile, her reaching teeth. She fills me and I give in, we spin along the blade and I bleed. It runs down my thighs, feels like heaven. Hurts so bad, arterial gouts of hell, I am exploding, I am dying. Starving. I’m hungry, mouth a wound of need.
I am an accretion of her desires, a compost of bodies built and killed for her, tribute to the ways she wants to hurt you. my skin cracks and bleeds trying to contain it, and I tremble violently with it. burning with the heat of rot. It hurts to not hurt you. I am screaming with the need to pull you inside out, every atom of which I am composed a symphony of demanding.
I worship you because if I don’t I will kill you.
I eat your sweat and sin because she is me. I am her, she is me and I’m fucking hungry. Python-relentless, endless, consumption, compression, the succulence of her strength a pulse slowing my heart, she is hungry. The twist of my spine the bliss in abandon the fucking goddamned euphoria of succumbing to a better predator. She gives in to me, gives me her throat. You get it. We aren’t ready to tear the sky off our enclosure quite yet.

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