Gospel: A poem by James Prenatt

By James Prenatt



You torture me,
you love me.

Wishing for cancer,
a tumorous pain
between me & you.

Inflicted by you,
cured by you,
swollen & torn by you.

You torture me,
you break me.

Here on my back,
on the concrete,
dig your heels into my stomach.

me until I’m purple and red.

You take your razor blades to the bottoms of my feet.
My tongue clamped shut,
I’m your babydoll,
I’m your shoeshine lick.

You torture me,
you punish me.

Choke me biblical,
pour salt on open wounds.
Command me,

down boy, down boy.

The jalapeno taste
on my tongue,
the lemon drip
as you hold my mouth open.

I wash your knife of blood.
I wash your feet of grime.
My body is your trough.
My semen is your food.

Prozac-like lover.
Goosefleshed & rotten.
Tie the noose around my sex,
hang me on desire.
Build the moat around my bed,
swim in the troubled waters.

I dream of living below your feet,
stomped on by you,
cuckold & sodomized & danced on
by you.

You torture me,
you stone me.

Sans thought,
sans will,
sans hands

we shake
& shiver into the night.

These naked secrets we share
underneath sleepless sheets.
Neither of us can seem to leave
curtains closed

& eyes wide open.

James Prenatt is the self-proclaimed King of Worms. He lives with his queen in Towson, MD, where he spends much time brooding. He likes horror movies and snow. You can find his other work in magazines such as trampset and Gay & Lesbian Review. He also has a twitter @jrprenatt.

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